RexTremandae by Scully3776 and Spookykat
by Spookykat
Summary: Scully and The New Agent in Town are selected along wLangly to evaluate the latest project from Unigen Corp. along with Ian Malcom and Alan Grant. Mulder and Doggett tag along. Dinosaurs aren't the only problem


Title: Starkweather: Rex-Tremandae  
  
Authors: Scully3776 and Spookykat  
  
Rating: R for language and content  
  
Spoilers: None that I'm aware of for XF  
  
Subject:  
  
Jurassic Park I, Jurassic Park II, The Lost World, and Jurassic Park III, and the novel Jurassic Park I by Michael Crichton the movie was based on.  
  
For the Starkweather series, Starkweather: Quanta, and Starkweather: Frequency Modulation  
  
Summary: Scully and FBI Special Agent Jerilyn Starkweather are invited with a guest to be on a panel of experts along with computer analyst Ringo Langley to evaluate the latest project from the Unigen genetic engineering company. Doggett and Mulder tag along, and dinosaurs aren't the only problem.  
  
First, with the legalese:  
  
Stuff from the X-Files belongs to Chris Carter and 1013 Productions  
  
Stuff from Jurassic Park belongs to Michael Critchon (original author of novel) and Steven Spielberg (director who made a movie and a lot of money from Michael Critchon's novel)  
  
Hey guys??? We're just borrowing your stuff, but you can have it back when we're done. We're not making any money off of it, so please don't sue us.  
  
Stuff that belongs to Scully3776: Special Agent Jerilyn Starkweather, Benjamin Starkweather, Admiral Jeremy Bailey  
  
Stuff that belongs to SpookyKat: Justin Leo, Lilly Stanford, Manny Iberra.  
  
Timeline: We're taking creative licensing here. Instead of 48 hours, there's a year in between the events in "Existence" and "Nothing Important Happened Today." The only thing that's going to be off continuity-wise is William's age. This particular fic takes place five and a half months after "Existence"  
  
We don't know if everybody from our stuff is going to show up for the party, but you never know, you've just entered the X-Files Zone...  
  
Cue the creepy music…  
  
Please don't feed the animals...  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
August 10, 2001  
  
La Isla Luna Blanca  
  
Sixty miles south of Cozumel, Mexico  
  
When she agreed to join the National Organization for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, Nicholetta Bocelli-Jones (Nicky to her friends) never dreamed she would be sent on an undercover mission. Nicky was not an adventurous soul. She avoided the more controversial organizations, not because she didn't believe in their tenets, but because, to be honest, their tactics scared her. She didn't think she had the guts to bomb a mink farm. And to be even more honest, she secretly enjoyed a rare steak time to time and she owned a pair of leather shoes. But she believed that puppy mills were evil and the whales should be freed from Sea World.  
  
She just wanted her planet to be a nice place. She just envisioned herself doing her part more along the lines of creating public announcements and boycotting mohair sweaters and veal.  
  
But here she was, sweltering in the suffocating humidity of Mexico, listening to an opera sung in Italian while she sat in the vet's truck, waiting to the same vet to come back from tending an ill animal.  
  
She had been told that "rare and exotic" animals were being exploited on an isolated island south of the tourist trap island of Mexico. That the animals were being mishandled and abused for the sole reason of the almighty buck. That the animals were only being used as props in a wildly fantastic theme park... built and designed by selfish, meat-eating, fur- wearing Americans, of course.  
  
Nicky had been singled out to be sent to La Isla Luna Blanca with the mission to snap pictures and then expose the animal abuse to the press. Let the greedy sons-of-b*tches be hung by the media.  
  
So far, four days into her trip, posing as a intern majoring in biology and pre-vet (well, she really wasn't posing, she really was still an universtity student studying Biology and Veternerian science) Nicky really hadn't seen much of any thing. Lots of animals indigenious to the island. Nothing "strange" or "exotic."  
  
It was raining, again. Nicky, bored, sat in the passenger side of the truck, playing with the digital camera the NOPCA armed her with. Her heart had leapt when the vet asked her to join him. They had driven through the giant, ominous gates and through the jungle. Nicky felt like she was breathing through a wet blanket. Nervous because of the weather, nervous because of the coup she was going to cause.  
  
The truck had stopped in front of another heavy gate. To her surprise and dismay, the vet had reached in the back and taken out a very large, military looking weapon. It was, in fact, an M-60, but she didn't know that.  
  
"Don't worry," he said, noting her concern. "It's just an elephant tranquilization gun."  
  
Nicky froze in her seat as the vet left the van, the opera music still playing. She watched the vet converse with the armed guard at the gate to the giant cage, the bars and thick cables poorly camoflaged with jungle vines. He disappeared into the smaller, man-sized gate.  
  
Now Nicky berated herself for not being brave enough to follow the vet inside. She put the camera down. I'm really not right for this she mourned as she poured Evian water out of the bottle into a Dixie cup. They should have sent someone else... a cop... or a FBI agent... she took a sip of water and set the cup on the dash of the truck.  
  
THUMP  
  
THUMP  
  
THUMP  
  
The water shook in her glass.  
  
Nicky felt the truck vibrating. Maybe it's thunder she tried to console herself.  
  
Then an ear-splitting roar that could only come from the bowels of Hell itself swelled from inside the giant cage. Nicky screamed herself, jumping in fear. She looked towards the gate, towards the cage, towards the sound.  
  
Then she looked UP.  
  
"Oh my God..." she gasped, reaching for the little digital camera. She snapped shot after shot at the giant leathery face glaring at her from the confines of it's monstrous cell. It roars again, placing a giant clawed hand? paw? on the cables. The cables hissed and sparked and the creature recoiled in pain and disappeared behind the foliage.  
  
Nicky shook from head to toe. She had presence of mind to hide the camera in her knapsack. She waited for the vet to return. And waited. And waited. He never came. The security guard came out, wearing a petrified and yet at the same time, a sorrowful expression on his face. He spoke very little English and Nicky spoke no Spanish and yet they looked at each and knew.  
  
The Italian opera played on.  
  
Nicky grabbed her bag and bolted from the truck and ran down the long gravel road in great fear. She didn't stop running until she made it to the main gate. Banging on it, she pleaded "Please, please, please let me out!!!"  
  
A different security guard opened the door for her and pulled her inside. "Please get me off this island," she wept to him, not sure if he understood English or not.  
  
He nodded and patted her back awkwardly. Just then, a helicopter, a medical heliocopter touched down on the helicopter pad just a few yards away from the main gate. The truck, the same truck Nicky had fled was barreling up the path. The guard let the truck through. He then turned to Nicky, pointing to the chopper and in a mix of Spanish and broken English, he said "Vaya... go... you go... vaya a Estadios Undios," he pointed to the chopper again as the truck parked near the chopper and two more security guards got out, flung the back doors open wide and carried out a body on a make-shift stretcher. The sheet covering the victim was soaked through with blood.  
  
Nicky turned white.  
  
"GO," the guard pushed Nicky towards the chopper, shoving her backpack in her gut. "Last chance."  
  
Nicky ran for her life and clamored on board.  
  
The security guard, Quinto Ibarra, watched the chopper fly away. That will be the fifth unexplained injury spirited away to the mainland. And, if he expires, the fourth death. The only one to survive was a quadriplegic who could now only blink his eyes.  
  
Quinto, who knew a lot more English and was a lot smarter than he let on, while Nicky had been paralyzed with fear, had seized the little digital camera from her backpack when she wasn't looking. La Americana estupida wouldn't know where to go with the information she had capture, but he and his brother Rafael, the security guard she ran from, knew what to do. It was the right thing to do. The money they were making was phenomenal, but a pious Catholic woman who taught them to favor morality over money raised both the men. This park, they knew, could not open.  
  
Their older brother, Manual, who was still skulking around in the United States somewhere, had raved about this man he met while he was in jail. He was the very stuff mythologies revolved around. His first name was even the same name of a Hispanic hero dumbed down by countless television heroes and insipid Disney movies... El Zorro... The Fox...  
  
Quinto took the diskette out of the digital camera. After smashing the camera itself to bits, he put the disk in an envelope and wrote his beloved, if not slightly absent-minded brother Manny a letter to please send this diskette to The Fox he met in prison...  
  
In the distance was a symphony of scaly demons demanding their pound of flesh. Quinto shivered as he slipped his letter in a FedEx envelope to be overnighted to Washington DC, Manny's last known address.  
  
Could a fox outwit a creature from beyond the mists of time? Quinto took a gulp of coffee and looked at Rafael, who was thinking the same thing he was.  
  
In Spanish, Rafael said "Well, if HE can't help, maybe his little bitch of a sister can."  
  
August 10, 2001  
  
Deputy Mayor F. William Mulder's office  
  
City Hall  
  
Washington DC  
  
6:45 PM Eastern Standard Time  
  
Deputy Mayor Mulder exhaled a long breath he didn't realize he was holding. "So, everything's okay then?" he said into the phone.  
  
Special Agent Scully had called the Deputy Mayor to update him on the X- File he had been assisting on. "Yes, Mulder," Scully said. "Agent Reyes is working on filing the case report right now and Doggett and Starkweather are running to catch a flight home as we speak."  
  
"And no one got hurt?"  
  
"Well... Starkweather got a little dirty... but other than the standard bumps, bruises and contusions that go hand and hand with any average X-File case, they're fine."  
  
"Okay," Mulder said. "Well, I'm about finished here. I'm going to go to my apartment to check on my fish, then I'll come over for a while."  
  
Scully asked him "Do you want to pick something up from the deli for a late supper or should I order a pizza?"  
  
"Who's turn is it to pay?"  
  
"Yours."  
  
"I'll stop at the deli. Later," Mulder hung up on Scully, finished up the last bit of boring, insignificant piece of paperwork for the City. Boring and insignificant compared to his work for the X-Files. Now THAT was work... interesting, fascinating, never knowing what to expect.  
  
Mulder sighed as he tossed a pencil up into the ceiling. This pencil actually stayed up there, making the count up to fifty-three. He got up and stretched, put his things into his briefcase Briefcase... I'm carrying a briefcase... and it doesn't even have anything interesting in it, like codes to nuclear warheads and walked out of his office, locking the door behind him.  
  
He had to admit, he loved his new office. The taxpayers bought him a large, spacious and very tastefully, politically decadent place to waste a lot of time in.  
  
But that was about it. Truth to be told, Mulder was bored silly. Although he was making a whole lot more money as the Deputy Mayor for Washington, DC plus receiving the occasional hefty check from the Federal Bureau of Investigation when he consulted on an X-File case, in an official capacity, plus he got to enjoy a family life with Scully and the baby, he hated the unexpected turn his life took.  
  
It all boiled down to the fact that he was bored. When Scully told him about the undercover case Doggett and Starkweather were working on, he left like the kid nobody invited to the birthday party that the popular kid was having. He felt left out. He wanted to play.  
  
Mulder got into his car and drove to his sadly neglected apartment. He hadn't seen the inside of it in days. It was dirtier than usual. Mulder, oblivious to filth, made a beeline to his fish tank.  
  
Two mollies and the Beta fish were floating belly up.  
  
"Aw, damn." Mulder got the little green fish net and scooped up the victims. "I'm sorry, guys," he said as he bore them away to his miniscule bathroom. He flipped the net over and watched the three dead fish plop into the toilet. After he flushed the throne, he paused over the bowl, reflecting on the good times and fond memories he had of his fish. Then he retreated to his barely used bedroom, changed out of his suit and into a pair of jeans and a well-loved grey T-shirt. He bent down to retrieve his sneakers, but decided that tying the laces would take too much effort, so he went into his closet and slipped on the pair of Birkenstock sandals one of his few and far between ex-girlfriends had bought for him. He thought it might have been Phoebe, but he wasn't sure. He hoped Scully wouldn't notice and comment. The death of his beloved fish had soured his mood already. He didn't really feel like dealing with Scully's green-eyed monster.  
  
He fed his remaining fish, stuffed his wallet in his pocket and headed out. Halfway down the stairs, he decided that he would make a stop at the pet store near the little deli Scully liked.  
  
Noah's Bark Pet Boutique  
  
Georgetown  
  
7:16 PM Eastern Standard Time  
  
The little doorbells chimed cutely as Mulder walked in, which woke up all the dogs, two of the kittens and a very large, very loud parrot named "Baby."  
  
Mulder wandered around through the aisles and accidentally bumped into a waifish sales clerk who was stocking up the shelves. "Sorry," he mumbled. "I'm trying to find the fish section."  
  
"Oh, like... do you need some help?" the girl with the purple hair and several facial piercing asked him.  
  
"Not as much help as you need," Mulder mumbled rudely as he brushed past him. As he wandered deeper into the store, he couldn't help but feel like he was being watched. He tried to shake it off. Paranoia he told himself, but he still felt like someone was eyeballing at him.  
  
He turned around and noticed a pair of chocolate brown eyes, filled with love, staring up at him.  
  
Mulder felt his normal arrogant reserve dissolve at the sight of those beautiful eyes. He went up and introduced himself... "Well... hello there..."  
  
Scully's apartment  
  
Georgetown  
  
8:21 PM Central Time  
  
Scully closed the door to her bedroom. William had finally fallen asleep. She peeped out of her living room windows. No Mulder yet. She picked up a paperback book she bought in a fit of good intention, thinking she would have time to read it. That was four months ago.  
  
Scully curled up in her armchair and soon lost herself so deeply into the novel, she didn't even hear Mulder's key in the door.  
  
But she did hear the unmistakable sound of little feet scampering across a linoleum floor. Scully got up warily, "Mulder? That you?"  
  
"Scully, where do you keep your bowls?"  
  
"Bowls?" Scully walked towards her kitchen. "Mulder, why do we need bowls if you got sandwiches."  
  
"I didn't get sandwiches."  
  
"What did you get?" Scully walked through her kitchen door and looked down. The most adorable little mutt looked back up at her and thumped her tail on the floor with the enthusiasm of a DJ. Mulder was sitting beside on the floor, scratching her ears. Next to Mulder was a grocery sack filled with Purina Puppy Chow and dog toys. Scully's eyebrows rose so high, they almost disappeared into her hairline. "Mulder..."  
  
"Isn't she great?" Mulder hugged the dog.  
  
Scully, as usual, was flabbergasted at Mulder's spontaneity. "Who's dog is that Mulder?" she asked, already knowing the answer.  
  
"I got her tonight. Three of my fish died and I stopped at the pet store on my way to the deli and we met and I just fell in love." Mulder did look oddly besotted with the dog.  
  
Which, Scully hated to admit, was cuter than hell. The dog had one of those faces where it seemed that she was *smiling* at you. And she had the biggest, brownest eyes... Scully tried to steel herself against them... but then again, puppy-dog eyes were always one of her weaknesses.  
  
Still...  
  
"Mulder... if you can't keep your fish alive, what makes you think you can handle a dog?"  
  
Mulder wasn't listening. "She's been spade, groomed, trimmed, housebroken and all of her shots updated. She was a stray the owner of the pet store found four months ago wandering the back alley. The sales associate working there said that this puppy must have belonged to somebody because it's very friendly. The owner tried to find who this young lady belonged to, but no luck. So now he was just trying to find a good home for her because he didn't want to take her to the pound. And Scully... watch this...." Mulder stood up, dug a sunflower seed out of his pocket. He cracked the shell with his teeth and instead of eating the seed as usual, he spit the seed out and held out his hand. The dog, with one giant slurp, licked the seed off of his hand. Mulder wiped dog drool onto his jeans and looked up at Scully, beaming.  
  
Scully hated to rain on Mulder's parade, but she had to know. "Mulder, does your apartment allow dogs?"  
  
"Oh sure, but I have to put down a five hundred dollar deposit, which I should have by the end of this month," now Mulder gave Scully the puppy-dog eyes.  
  
"NO."  
  
"Scully, come on... it's only be for two weeks..."  
  
"Absolutely not. Mulder... I don't want a dog around here."  
  
"Why not? You had that little dust mop of mutt here for a while and you loved her."  
  
"Queequeg? She was a pain in the ass, Mulder. She chewed up my furniture and one time she escaped from her bath and ran all over my apartment, getting soap everywhere."  
  
"You cried when she got eaten by that alligator."  
  
"That was traumatic."  
  
"You just don't want to get attached to another pet only to lose her again. That's not healthy Scully."  
  
"Mulder. I don't need a pet. I have YOU to keep me busy."  
  
"And I see you're trying to shorten my leash. Scully, I promise. It's only for two weeks. The Bureau owes me a check for consulting on this undercover case that Puppy-Man and the Hurricane went on. That'll more than cover the deposit. I just can't swing that much money right now."  
  
"Well... maybe you should have thought of that before you picked up the dog, Mulder."  
  
"She might have been given away to some one else."  
  
Scully was hit by a brainstorm. "Ask Starkweather when she gets back if she can take care of the dog. Her apartment allows pets."  
  
"Scully, we know that Starkweather's place allows pets because she already has one. A great big mean tabby cat named Caesar, which is extremely appropriate seeing how Caesar sees their apartment as his empire and he allows Ben and Jerilyn as his minions to exist there. And besides Scully, just because she doesn't hate me anymore, doesn't mean we're the best of friends. It's one thing to help her out on a case. It's another to ask her to take care of my dog. Besides," Mulder added. "She let Doggett's houseplants die when he went out of town last month. And Doggett's her partner and her friend. If she can't even keep her partner and her friend's plants alive, what is she going to do to my dog?"  
  
"Mulder," Scully made one last stand, even though what she really wanted to do was sit on the floor and snuggle with the puppy. But she wanted to snuggle with the puppy and then send it away. Not have it potentially become a permanent fixture to her home. "I don't know if I can devote the attention it needs, what with William and all."  
  
"This dog is going to be great company for Boo when he gets bigger," Mulder said, winning the fight in one swift move. "I would have loved to have a pet, growing up." He picked the puppy up and cuddled her in his arms. "Don't worry Scully, I promise this one won't be eaten by any reptiles."  
  
Scully gave up. "What should we call her?" she asked as she sat down beside Mulder. The puppy wriggled out of Mulder's arms and moseyed over to sniff the kneecaps of the new person.  
  
"Well, the girl that was helping me said that the manager already named her, but we could change it if we liked."  
  
"What did they name her?"  
  
Mulder hunted for the license. "Tummy."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Tummy."  
  
"Tummy??? Why?"  
  
Just then, the little dog flopped on her back and exposed her belly. Scully reached over and scratched. The dog's smile actually seemed to get bigger and her body became limp in contentment.  
  
"I think Tummy fits," Mulder said.  
  
August 11, 2001  
  
Ronald Reagan National Airport  
  
Washington DC  
  
5:14 AM Eastern Standard Time  
  
Doggett and Starkweather trudged through the terminal like sleepwalkers. "I can't believe," Starkweather said haggardly, "that our flight was held over in Chicago for three and a half hours."  
  
"I hate O'Hare," Doggett said, eyes bloodshot.  
  
Both agents were suffering from major sleep deprivation. As they more or less dragged themselves to the baggage claim, Starkweather said "I don't know about you, but I'm calling in dead to work tomorrow and I'm taking three funeral days."  
  
"Sounds good to me," Doggett yawned and rubbed his eyes. "Need a ride home?" he asked as he snagged their luggage off the conveyor belt.  
  
"Please," Starkweather took her backpack and her suitcase from him. "Ben was going to pick me up, but when they made the delay announcement, I called him on my cell and told him," she yawned "not to worry about it, that I'd either get a cab or a ride from you."  
  
"Bet he liked that," Doggett grumbled. Ben's transparent jealous of his relationship with Jerilyn was a source of profound irritation to Doggett. He would have loved to give Mr. Starkweather a swift kick in the ass, but he wasn't sure how Mrs. Starkweather would take that, so he held his piece.  
  
But Starkweather wasn't blind to her husband's immaturity. "Oh, he loved it," she said bitterly. Then she recovered and said "Don't mind me, Papa John, I'm tired, I'm cranky and all I want to do is to curl up in my nice warm bed with my cat.  
  
In front of Ben and Jerilyn's apartment building  
  
Washington DC  
  
6:00 AM Eastern Standard Time  
  
Doggett stopped the car. He nudged Starkweather. "Hey... Doc..."  
  
Starkweather's eyes fluttered but she didn't move. "Five more minutes," she grumbled.  
  
"Starkweather, you're home."  
  
Now she lifted her head. "Joy." She turned to her partner. "Doggett, I'm serious about not coming into the office today. So don't you go making me look bad by coming in."  
  
"Doc, all I wanna do is collapse in my bed. And if AD Skinner has a problem with it, I'll deal with him. He can't possibly expect us to be functioning after what we just went through." Doggett needed a shave and he had been living in the same suit for the past two days now. The pretty green dress suit Starkweather had changed into before leaving for her flight was completely crumpled and her French braid was coming undone.  
  
Both looked like hell.  
  
Starkweather put her hand on the door handle. "Well, then I'll talk to you later, Papa John."  
  
Doggett grabbed her wrist. "Wait."  
  
"Doggett, please, can't it wait until tomorrow, I'm dying here."  
  
"Starkweather, I just need to know something."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Are you gonna tell him about what happened at the dance club?"  
  
Starkweather froze.  
  
August 9, 2001  
  
Deuces Are Wild Nightclub  
  
Sioux City, Iowa  
  
While investigating a series of murders at a popular radio station, Starkweather posing as a young college student, met up with Doggett at a local, popular dance club. They had danced together so Doggett could fill her in about what he had learned about the main suspect, Reese Jackson. Doggett was recovering from a car accident he didn't quite think was an accident per se. But the net around Jackson was tightening:  
  
"Oh my God... tell me that this whole mess didn't start because someone thought it would be fun to tip over a COW?!" Starkweather had moaned very- Scully-like while "the Mulder-side" as she was beginning to begrudgingly call that part of herself, could absolutely see the hilarity in this entire situation.  
  
"Anyway, Alice and Elizabeth kept their peace and Reece got away with murder."  
  
"Literally. So you think someone was tailing you?"  
  
"Positive. I don't know how much they told you about the wreck I had, but a lady ran a stop light. I slammed on the brakes. Not only did the lady ram right into to me, but whoever was following me, slammed right into the rear of my car."  
  
"Was it Reece?"  
  
"I don't know, but he took off awful fast."  
  
"So now we've got leaving the scene of an accident as well as all the other sh*t." Starkweather murmured. "He's gonna fry for this. But where else have you been? I left like three messages on your cell..."  
  
"...I was making sure I wasn't being following while trying to wake up any judge in Woodbury County."  
  
"A judge???"  
  
"I think I know where to look to find Elizabeth's locket and Melinda's ring."  
  
"And we've got him on theft and major dealin'."  
  
"And Reyes teamed up with the IRS. They've got a warrant for the station. He's gonna get nailed for tax evasion on top of that."  
  
"Let me know the way  
  
Before there's hell to pay  
  
Give me room to lay down the law and let me go..."  
  
"Can you get away from your buddies and do a little search and destroy mission with me Doc?" Doggett asked her.  
  
"I've got to make a play  
  
To make my lover stay  
  
So what would an angel say  
  
The devil wants to know..."  
  
Starkweather saw him before he saw her or Doggett. "Doggett," she whispered "Kiss me, now."  
  
"WHAT?!?!"  
  
"Dammit, Reece Jackson is HERE. We've got to get out here, follow my lead," she grabbed his tie and brought him closer, "I don't like this anymore than you do," she said before kissing him on the corner of the mouth....  
  
"What I need is a good defense  
  
'Cause I'm feeling like a criminal  
  
And I need to be redeemed  
  
To the one I sinned against  
  
Because he's all I ever knew of love..."  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
(From Starkweather: Frequency Modulation)  
  
August 11, 2001  
  
In front of Ben and Jerilyn's apartment building  
  
Washington DC  
  
6:03 AM Eastern Standard Time  
  
"Are you gonna tell him about what happened at the dance club?"  
  
Starkweather froze. "Um... let me sleep on it," she mumbled.  
  
"Starkweather," Doggett said, exasperated. "it's not like we did anything wrong. You know that."  
  
"I know," she snapped, delivering those two word wrapped up in irritation and exhaustion.  
  
"Starkweather, he hates me anyway. That's not a secret."  
  
"Doggett, he's gonna freak if I tell him."  
  
"What?" Doggett leaned his head against his car seat. "Dishonesty's a better path to take?"  
  
Starkweather was wound up tighter than a two-dollar watch. "Doggett, please," she begged as she rubbed her temples. "I can't handle this right now, okay? I've got a headache the size of a dinosaur right now and I just..."  
  
"Just what? Starkweather, you can't let your personal life interfere with your work."  
  
"That's funny," Starkweather lashed back. "I've got a husband telling me that I can't let my work interfere with my personal life. It's nice to have all these big strapping men around to dictate to me how to run my life."  
  
"Now," Doggett was seeing red, "that's not what I meant and you know it. You told me on the flight that he's having trouble trusting you."  
  
"And you think me telling him we locked lips for the sake of a mission is seriously going to help him trust me?? Are you fucking insane?? What color is the sky in your world?"  
  
"Jesus," Doggett said, now covering his eyes with his hand. She had a point. "I don't know Starkweather... but I do know that if you don't tell him, it could come back to bite you in the ass." Doggett looked at her sorrowfully. "And I'm not gonna lie to save your ass either."  
  
"I don't expect you to." Starkweather got out of the car. Doggett popped the trunk and got out to help her get her luggage. "I got it," Starkweather said when she saw Doggett walking towards her.  
  
Doggett ignored her and got her suitcase out while Starkweather pulled her backpack out. "Starkweather-"  
  
"Papa John, please, don't push this. Not right now. My head hurts. My back hurts. I'm so damn tired right now, I don't think I'm capable of making a rational decision."  
  
"Starkweather, I'd hate to lose you as a partner. Agents have been reassigned for less than this."  
  
"I know," Starkweather looked away. "I'm tired, not stupid."  
  
"Starkweather, you can't hide this from Ben," Doggett counseled her. "What's going to happen if we go on another mission together, and you know we will. The X-Files' not a desk job."  
  
"DOGGETT. Enough. Okay? I KNOW. I will tell him. But not this morning. Not when I'm this brain dead. Okay?"  
  
Doggett finally let off. "Okay. I'm sorry."  
  
Starkweather shook her head. "Not as sorry as I'm gonna be when I tell him."  
  
"Starkweather, you didn't DO anything wrong. WE didn't do anything wrong. It was part of the job. My case report will reflect that." Starkweather held out her hand for her suitcase. Doggett handed it to her. "We are NOT the next Mulder and Scully, Starkweather."  
  
Starkweather looked up at Doggett and made an attempt at a smile, failing miserable. "You tell Ben that." She turned her back and walked towards her apartment.  
  
Doggett opened his mouth to say something, but closed it. What else could he do? It was out of his hands now.  
  
He just resented like hell that he was going to painted as the bad guy... again. It just wasn't fair. He had never chased after another man's wife and he sure as hell wasn't going to start now. Doggett turned and got into his car. He watched Mrs. Starkweather go inside her building and then he drove himself home.  
  
Neither Starkweather nor Doggett saw the outline of Ben Starkweather in the window of their apartment, watching everything.  
  
Ben and Jeri's apartment  
  
6:15 AM  
  
Jerilyn Starkweather let herself into the apartment. She set her bags down by the door, not having the energy to carry them all the way to the bedroom. She leaned against the door and undid her unraveling French braid. She padded through the kitchen and through the living room. Ben just came out of the bathroom, tying his necktie when Jerilyn flopped on the couch.  
  
"Hi," he said. "You're home early."  
  
"Try and control your excitement."  
  
Ben sat besides her. "How was your trip?"  
  
"Crappy." Her cat, Caesar, leapt on upon her and settled on her belly, purring happily and shedding all over her good suit jacket.  
  
"Did you catch the bad guys?"  
  
"For once, actually, we did. Kind of exciting."  
  
"Anything else exciting happen?" Ben asked innocently.  
  
"Yeah..." Starkweather said, rubbing her eyes like a weary toddler. "Lots of excitement."  
  
"Like??"  
  
"I got slimed."  
  
"WHAT?"  
  
"I'll tell you about it later," Starkweather muttered. "I'll tell you about the entire trip later. I'm too tired right now." Her eyelids fluttered shut again.  
  
Ben hovered over her, clenching and unclenching his fists. **Something** happened on her mission, that was for damn sure. It looked like Jerilyn and Doggett were arguing about something out there. Ben had the sinking sensation that he wasn't going to like what they were arguing about.  
  
What is the point? he wearily asked himself as he crouched down down beside her to take off her shoes. He brushed an errand lock of hair off her face and brushed his thumb against her lips.  
  
Starkweather opened her eyes and Ben lost himself into those strange irises, golden brown surrounded by a ring of green fire. "Tell me everything's okay," she pleaded in her haze of exhaustion.  
  
Ben smiled sadly and fed her a pretty lie. "Everything's fine, Jeri." He bent over to give her a hug and a kiss. Starkweather hugged him around his neck. Even though she was half-asleep, she observed "You smell like sandalwood."  
  
Ben didn't hear her. "I gotta go to work." He kissed her lips. "Bye FBI broad," he whispered. "Sleep well."  
  
"Bye Counselor," Starkweather murmured as she fell completely asleep.  
  
Ben left for the office with an overwhelming sadness in his heart and the kindling of a great hatred in his soul.  
  
He wasn't stupid. Something happened between Jerilyn and the good Agent Doggett while they were in Sioux City... and he didn't want to know. Ignorance is bliss he decided as he drove towards the law firm and what was left of his life.  
  
Later on that day...  
  
City Hall  
  
Deputy Mayor F. William Mulder's office  
  
10:05 AM  
  
Mulder was pounding away at his computer. Tummy was asleep at his feet, under his desk. Mulder looked down at the puppy, grinned and got back to his reports. When he hit a mental block, he stopped, gnawed on a pencil and tossed it in the air. Unfortunately, this one didn't stick, but sent all fifty-three crashing down. Mulder covered his head with his hands as pencils bounced off of him. "Damn," he sighed as he looked at all the pencils scattered around him. He looked down at the puppy. Tummy hadn't moved an inch during the entire pencil hailstorm. "Nothing fazes you, huh girl?" he asked.  
  
His ditzy receptionist, Bunny flung open the door. She clasped her tiny hands between her bosom. Mulder idly wondered if her massive chest was a miracle from God or a miracle from Victoria's Secret. However, Mulder was more interested in physics than in biology. She DID seem to defy gravity. "Oh my goodness gracious, Foxy," she gasped in that irritating feathery voice of hers, "what happened?" She looked at the floor confused. "And what is with all these pencils?" She got down on her hands and knees and collected pencils. "And what is this?" She grabbed Tummy's tail which was protruding from underneath the desk.  
  
"Don't!" Mulder got up, but Bunny already gave the tail a hard yank. Tummy squealed pathetically and ran to Mulder's feet. Mulder scooped the puppy up. "That's my dog," Mulder informed her.  
  
"OOOOOOOO!!!! A widdle puppy-dawg!" she cooed, standing up. "What's his name?"  
  
"Tummy."  
  
"AWWWWW!! That's SOOOOOO adorable!!!"  
  
Oh my God Mulder thought in pain. He had met some strange rangers in his lifetime, but he didn't know that someone this abysmally idiotic truly existed. She's proof that Darwin is wrong Mulder held his little dog closer to him, afraid she'd snatch her out of his arms. "Thanks," he said. "Bunny, was there a reason why you're here?"  
  
"Oh... yes, Foxy-"  
  
"Don't call me that."  
  
"Sorry," she said, not sounding the slightest bit sorry, "but there's someone here to see you. He's not on your list, but he said you two were old friends and your day is pretty clear, so I thought it'd be okay." She stuck her head outside the door. "Mr. Eeee - bear - rah? Mr. Mold - dar will see you now," she looked at Mulder. "Did I say your last name right?"  
  
"Close enough," Mulder said as Bunny pranced out and Manny "The Illegal Alien" Ibarra bounced in. "Oh God..." Mulder fell into his chair, still holding his new puppy.  
  
"Hey, Mulder, what's up?" Manny said cheerfully as he took a seat. "See that your little stint in jail didn't hurt your career at all. Hey," he examined the chair he was sitting in. "Is this real leather? Cool."  
  
"Didn't they send you back to your country?" Mulder asked wearily, feeling the singing fingers of the Mighty Migrane touching his brain.  
  
"Nah, your friends? The computer guys? They helped me get a green card." Manny beamed.  
  
"Congratulations." Mulder made a mental note to kill the Lone Gunmen.  
  
"And I got a job, a great job.  
  
"Manny," Mulder said wearily as Tummy sympathetically nuzzled him. "What fresh hell did you bring me?"  
  
Manny became very quiet, very serious. He got up, shut the door, returned to the desk. Mulder put Tummy on the floor so she could run around. "Mulder, are you still into that paranormal thing that you told me about when we were in lock-up together?"  
  
"Define 'into'," Mulder said cautiously although his mind was bounding ahead like the eager puppy Tummy was, excited at the possibilities that lay ahead.  
  
"Mulder," Manny slipped out a diskette from a digital camera from his pocket. "I left behind the majority of my family to come to this country. Most of my younger siblings have also left. My two youngest brothers, Rafael and Quinto told me that they got jobs at a fancy American resort being built on an island south of Cozumel."  
  
"Cozu - what?"  
  
"Cozumel. Beautiful island. Overrun with rich American tourists and poor Mexicans," Manny said bitterly. "Anyway, my brothers told me that it was some kind of theme park being built, like a Disneyland or Universal Studios and it was very secretive." Manny bit his lip. "My brothers overnighted this," he held up the disk, "and a letter to me. They've asked me to contact you."  
  
"Me??" Mulder asked. "Why me?"  
  
"Because," Manny was surprised at Mulder's surprise. "of the X-Files. We need you to open an X-File."  
  
"I don't have that power anymore," Mulder reminded Manny and himself.  
  
"Your..." Manny searched for the right word in English. Not coming up with any, he lapsed into his native tongue, "Novena? Your novena, Agent Scully? Can you convince Scully to open an X-File?"  
  
"Convince Scully?" Mulder fought the urge to laugh. "Convince Scully of a paranormal event. A paranormal event that you haven't even told me about yet? A paranormal event that happened in within the boundaries of Mexico, not the United States?"  
  
"But the company that owns the park and is building the park," Manny said, crossing over to Mulder's computer, "is American." He slid the disk in. "My brothers said that several people have been killed already." He seized the mouse and clicked open Photoshop.  
  
"Killed by what?" Mulder asked.  
  
Then his eyes widened at the picture on his computer screen.  
  
"Oh my God..."  
  
Later on that day  
  
J. Edgar Hoover  
  
Assistant Director Walter Skinner's Office  
  
12:45 PM Eastern Standard Time  
  
Kimberly introduced the sleekly dressed man and let him into AD Skinner's domain. Skinner got up and shook his hand. He took one whiff of his expensive cologne and thought Lawyer "Mr. Schabasser, how can we assist you?" he asked formally, sitting down again.  
  
Roald Schabasser got straight to business. "Assistant Director Skinner, I represent Unigen International." He handed Skinner his business card. "We have several interests in the fields of science, but we are branching out into new horizons. However, we need help making these horizons less of a dream but more of a reality. Unfortunately we've hit some roadblocks on our journey to the horizons and we need some help." He held up a hand as if Skinner was about to protest. "Now, I'm not asking for any rule bending. Nothing of the sort. I'm not even asking for a favor."  
  
"What are you asking for?" Skinner growled.  
  
"A loan."  
  
"A loan??"  
  
"Sir, if I am to understand correctly, there is a little known division of the Federal Bureau of Investigation which investigates strange and unusual occurrences often labeled 'paranormal' or 'supernatural', correct?"  
  
"Yes..." Skinner fiddled with a pen. "It's called the X-Files Division."  
  
"Yes," Schabasser pretended to have faulty memory. "And you have two scientists assigned to that division... ah... two women.... a Dr. Dana Scully and a Doctor Jerilyn Starkweather, correct?"  
  
"Yes..." Skinner was liking this less and less.  
  
"That's my loan."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"Sir," Schabasser said patronizingly legal, as if an Assistant Director for the FBI had no knowledge of the law whatsoever, "I can't get into many details due to client confidentiality, however I can tell you that Unigen has plans for a wonderful botanical park, project, a park, a major nature center with an amusement park twist. Marketed towards families. The prototype is being built on a small island near the Mexican resort of Cozumel. The issues that we are having is, even though the Mexican government has no objections to our project, we are having trouble gaining authorization the United States to bring our project to the mainland."  
  
"I don't understand."  
  
"Well... although the island is an ideal spot for seclusion, once we go public, the location, to put it bluntly, is going to kill us. For one thing, it's too close to Cozumel, a resort more geared towards the moneyed and childless. Parents and children, Parents aren't going to be willing to spend the time and money to travel to Mexico, only to hop on another flight to come to our park. We'd keep the research facility on the island, but we want to build a major attraction in the States, on the mainland. More affordable to the families we're trying to attract."  
  
"How do Agent Scully and Agent Starkweather factor into this?"  
  
Schabasser folded his hands together. "In order to please the various federal committees that are stalling the permits needed to bring our project to the mainland... actually.... Orlando, Florida to be exact... roaring distance from Disney World and Universal Studios," he chuckled at his little joke that Skinner found no humor in whatsoever. "we are creating a little panel to critique the project from every angle. So far, we've satisfied the zoology criteria with Dr. Alan Grant-"  
  
Skinner frowned. The name was familiar to him, but he said nothing as Schabasser rattled on.  
  
"architecture with Andrea Nowark, horticulture with Dr. Geoff Wick, computer science with Ringo Langly-"  
  
Skinner closed his eyes in pain.  
  
"- and mathematics and logic with Ian Malcolm." Schabasser took a breath and looked directly at Skinner. "What we need are two impartial minds, trained in science and the law to round off our panel. Dr. Scully and Dr. Starkweather are perfect. Both have medical training and are specialists in forensics I understand. Plus Dr. Scully has several years of practical experience under her belt while Dr. Starkweather is a new mind and a new pair of eyes to the FBI. I promise you," Schabasser held up his hand. "I promise you that I would not need them for long. We would leave Wednesday night, be back Sunday evening. Everything is paid for the agents and a guest. If I had been informed correctly, Dr. Starkweather is actually a Mrs. Starkweather as well and she is more than welcome to bring her husband. As for Dr. Scully, I am afraid I do not know very much about her, except that she has a bouncing baby boy," he smiled.  
  
Skinner gritted his teeth. This slime ball knows a lot more about Scully and Starkweather than he was letting on. he thought. Was it sheer coincidence that he picked two of the X-Files die-hard skeptics for this little "trip." Well, if it was a coincidence, it was one that would work against him for if Scully or Starkweather found one thing wrong with that park, she'd make sure it got shut down, come hell or high water. Especially Scully, being a parent now.  
  
But he was definitely opening an X-File on this. That was no question. "I'll have to consult the agents," Skinner told Schabasser solemnly. "To be honest, I don't know if they are available. Agent Scully is still not working the X-Files on a full-time status as of yet and Agent Starkweather just returned today from a very intensive undercover mission."  
  
"Of course, of course." Schabasser still smiled. "Why don't we just call them quick and get this settled. The flight leaves next weekend."  
  
Skinner glared at the lawyer over his glassed and dialed Scully's extension to the basement office.  
  
"Scully."  
  
"Agent Scully, I need to see you in my office in five minutes. Is Agent Starkweather in."  
  
"No sir, but I didn't think we were expecting her or Agent Doggett to be in."  
  
"No matter, I'll call her," Skinner hung up on Scully and dialed Agent Starkweather's home number.  
  
"I can't say that I know what to tell ya ma'am..." Doggett was saying. He had raced to the phone to answer it, and it had turned out to be his insurance company. Before he could deal with the insurance company concerning his F150, the case in Iowa occupied his time and energy. "That's one of the drawbacks of my job."  
  
"You're an agent for the FBI according to our files. Last I heard on the news, you're busy figurin' out Timothy McVeigh and all those Arabs. That involves totaling vehicles?"  
  
"My part of the bureau deals with different kinds of cases Mrs. Turner. If there are any questions, you can get in touch with my superior, and he will clarify matters."  
  
"Two vehicles damaged in three months, Mr. Doggett?" The woman countered. "Real life isn't some kinda cheesy action movie, sir. When most people damage cars at that rate, our company considers them a risk to insure."  
  
"Ma'am, I assure you, I honestly can't tell you how my truck got damaged. There are a few days this past summer that I honestly can't remember where I was."  
  
"Bwahahahahaha!" The woman laughed into the receiver. "Sir, before last year, you were Mr. Normal. We had no reports from you that weren't work- related. But this year, I think you've got a screw loose. With all due respect, mister, that explanation sounds like something offa some dumb sci- fi TV. show. Now when you find out what happened, gimme a call, cuz the five clock whistle just blew, and I'm outta here."  
  
"Fuck!" Doggett grumbled into the receiver as he slammed the phone down. Yes, before he was assigned to help find a missing FBI agent, his life was quite normal. And normal seemed to go down the drain altogether when Jerilyn Starkweather was assigned to his department.  
  
She certainly wasn't the easiest person to get along with, and she certainly would never qualify for employee of the month. She could not be described as a team player, but her addition to the x-files office with Reyes gave a scientific edge that the office was lacking before. But ever since she and Doggett first met before the case in Scotland got underway, there had been a connection there that hadn't existed with anyone.  
  
And the most recent case in Iowa didn't exactly draw them apart. If she wasn't still married and still in love with her husband, Doggett didn't know what could have developed.  
  
But what could have been is just as much of a mystery as Agent Dana Scully, her son, and the motives of the late Alex Krycek. He called for a pizza to be delivered, fished around in the fridge for a southpaw beer, and channel- surfed, willing to let the mysteries remain for the night.  
  
While Doggett was arguing with the endearing Ms. Turner from his auto insurance company, Starkweather was still dead asleep. Caesar had curled up on the hollow of her stomach and was purring merrily as he shed golden orange all over her nice suit. She was so still that Ben thought she looked like a corpse.  
  
When the phone rang the first time, she didn't even move. The second ring scared her awake. Her arm shot out before the rest of her was awake and reached for the cordless phone that Ben never failed to put back on the hook. It was to her ear and her mouth was moving to say "Hello" before her brain even comprehended what was going on.  
  
"Agent Starkweather, this is AD Skinner."  
  
"I just got back, how could I be in trouble?"  
  
"Agent Starkweather, other than the debt you and Agent Scully racked up on a Bureau card, you're far from being in trouble, Agent Doggett just faxed me his first draft of his report. It's a miracle you two are in one piece. I hate to disturb you on your day off, but I need to see you."  
  
Starkweather sat up, rubbing her eyes. Her head still hurt. She looked down at herself. Her suit was completely crumpled and covered with cat hair. Plus it smelled bad. She ran her fingers through her hair. Tangled. She pushed Caesar off of her and asked Skinner "Do I have time to get cleaned up a little sir?"  
  
"It is rather urgent," Skinner said, mostly because he wanted to rid his office of this noxious lawyer.  
  
"I can be there in an hour," Starkweather said, already up and moving towards the bathroom.  
  
"Good." Skinner hung up.  
  
Starkweather went into the bathroom and stepped into her shower, still fully clothed, turning water on. Everything about this day was feeling surreal.  
  
The feeling would last all day...  
  
*************************  
  
An hour and fifteen minutes later  
  
Skinner's office  
  
Scully was riding up on the elevator when it stopped on Floor Three, the floor to the parking garage. The doors opened, revealing a very pale Agent Starkweather. Starkweather took her dark sunglasses off, revealing dark rings under her eyes. "Hey, Scully, what's up?"  
  
"Starkweather, you look awful."  
  
"Love you too." Starkweather stepped inside and stood next to Scully.  
  
Neither woman realized how well they complimented each other. Scully was, far and away, the prettier of the two with her fiery hair, ivory skin and piercing blue eyes. She always chose clothes that complimented her luminous complexion and tiny frame. Today she wore a beige dress suit with her trademark almost platform high heels and her tiny gold cross. Motherhood had been kind to her and she shed her pregnancy weight fairly quickly. She just had ten more pounds to go to be back to her pre-pregnancy weight, although truth to be known, Mulder preferred her with a little more weight on her, more because it made him nervous to see her too thin. "Whenever something's "fine" in your corner of the world," he said, heavy sarcasm on the word "fine", "you drop about five pounds in twenty minutes." However, it had been said by other male agents she was as "hot" as a movie star. Too bad she was stuck on that weirdo, Mulder.  
  
However, where Scully was more "What you see is what you get", Starkweather exuded an aura of mystery. Her eyes, too much like Mulder's, could narrow to catlike slits in a heartbeat when she was pissed and at times it was anyone's guess what her big brain was cooking up when she camouflaged her thoughts behind her baby girl face. Although she only had an inch or two up on Scully, Starkweather's build was leaner and more athletic that Scully's. Starkweather also paid no heed to fashion. As usual, she wore a black suit with a vibrantly colored blouse (orange. The only deviation from her normal attire is her tawny blond hair was simply pulled back in a ponytail. Normally, she liked to keep her long hair bundled up in some sort of braid or bun. Her shoes, compared to Scully, were boring but her jewelry, like Scully's was minimal. Just her wedding band and a necklace Scully had never seen her wear before.  
  
Add Reyes to the mix with her dancing eyes, thick black hair, quick smile and her tendency to dress a little more flamboyant and sexy that the Bureau preferred, no one could deny that three of the more attractive women in the FBI worked for the X-Files. Unfortunately, most of the women who worked for the Bureau looked like trolls.  
  
So it was no wonder when Schabasser looked up when Scully and Starkweather as they entered Skinner's office, his jaw dropped open. "Dr. Scully, Dr. Starkweather," he gushed as he walked towards them. "I've heard much of your career, but everyone failed to tell me how lovely you both were."  
  
Scully and Starkweather looked at each other, then impaled him with their own signature glare: Scully's frosty cerulean blue "Don't waste my time" glower and Starkweather's Mulderish arrogant stare, tinged with feline impatience.  
  
Scully let Starkweather handle the situation, which she did in her own special way. "Who the hell are you?"  
  
So it was no wonder when Schabasser looked up when Scully and Starkweather as they entered Skinner's office, his jaw dropped open. "Dr. Scully, Dr. Starkweather," he gushed as he walked towards them. "I've heard much of your career, but everyone failed to tell me how lovely you both were."  
  
Scully and Starkweather looked at each other, then impaled him with their own signature glare: Scully's frosty cerulean blue "Don't waste my time" glower and Starkweather's Mulderish arrogant stare, tinged with feline impatience.  
  
Scully let Starkweather handle the situation, which she did in her own special way. "Who the hell are you?"  
  
Skinner groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose.  
  
Schabasser, surprisingly, laughed. "And I heard you were bit of a spitfire, Dr. Starkweather. Must run in the family," he dropped a wink. "I hear your brother, Fox Mulder is doing VERY well for himself these days," he said, voice oily.  
  
Starkweather bridled. "He's my half-brother," she grumbled. "And as far as I can tell, he's doing fine." Scully glared at Starkweather, assuming Starkweather was taking another potshot at Mulder. She was as startled as Skinner and Schabasser when Starkweather made her next comment, "Assuming that you truly did your homework as throughly as you would like us to assume you did, then you know what a joy it was for me, as an abandoned child, to find living blood relatives."  
  
Schabasser assumed she was being serious. Skinner or Scully couldn't tell as Starkweather's face was a bland and innocent as an antique porcelain doll.  
  
"Shall we get to business?" Skinner said, interrupting the awkward silence.  
  
Schabasser invited the ladies to sit and he ran through the same spiel he went through with Skinner earlier.  
  
Scully and Starkweather silently sat through his speech. Their dueling eyes—holier-than-thou blue and hellcat hazel—staring him down the entire time. Schabasser had to take out his monogrammed handkerchief. To be honest, he didn't know which one turned him on (and intimidated the hell out of him) more. He wondered how committed they were to their significant others. Oh well, he'd find out during the trip. "Any questions?"  
  
Scully and Starkweather looked at each other. Starkweather made a motion with her hand as if to say to Scully "You first."  
  
"What KIND of project are we talking about?" She wanted to know  
  
Schabasser smiled, shaking his head. "I can't release that information until you and your guest sign the confidentiality waiver."  
  
Scully instantly replied, "I'm not signing anything unless I know what I'm getting myself into."  
  
"I assure you," Schabasser said "everything is within the strict boundaries of the law."  
  
"Besides Scully," Starkweather pointed out. "We can have Ben check out the waivers to make sure everything is on the up and up... and also for legal loopholes that we'll conveniently forget to point out to you in case we need to escape from a legally binding contract."  
  
Schabasser smiled weakly and instantly decided he liked Scully better.  
  
"Can you tell us ANYTHING?" Scully said. "I mean, if we are invited to this island, I'd like to be better informed so I can make an intelligent judgment on the scientific and the legal validity of the project."  
  
"What I can tell you," Schabasser said slowly. "Is that it deals with genetics."  
  
Scully arched an eyebrow. "Genetics...... I am to assume that we are dealing with genetically altered animals?"  
  
"You would be safe to assume that." Schabasser turned to Starkweather. "Dr. Starkweather, how about you? Questions?"  
  
"I noticed a few very prominent names dropped on this forum we've been invited to partake with." Starkweather ticked the names off on her fingers, "Andrea Nowark is a fairly famous architect who, although designed some very prominent business building in Los Angeles, however her claim to famous is her work with the Mirage Hotel in Las Vegas, particularly with the design of the homes of Siegfrey and Roy's white tigers when they are not performing. Geoff Wick is a noted profession from Iowa State University. He has written several college text books. He gave a lecture at the University of Iowa while I was a med student there about the differences between plant life during each major developement age the earth went through. I personally thought it was boring, but then again, plants are not my specialty. Anyway.... Ringo Langly," Starkweather cringed visibly, "is rumored-" she stifled laughter, "to be one of the best computer hackers in the world. Only problem is, there is no shred of evidence that he's broken any laws-" because WE cover up for him and his other two nimrod friends Starkweather couldn't help thinking "However, despite his retirement to work on "The Lone Gunmen Online Newsletter" which explores conspiracy theories, Langly is considered one of the top notch experts in security systems. But the other two names...." Starkweather mused. "I'm sorry... Alan Grant and Ian Malcolm.... aren't those characters from the movie and the book of the same name.... Jurassic Park?" Trust Starkweather the movie buff to pick up on that.  
  
"Alan Grant and Ian Malcolm are real life people, Dr. Starkweather."  
  
"So it's just a BIG coincidence that two people with the same odd names and have almost similiar professions... unless Dr. Grant really is a fossil- hunter... are going with on a trip, to an ISLAND, to critique a zoological project... with you already let Scully assume that we're dealing with genetically altered animals...." Starkweather trailed off.... "Interesting...."  
  
Scully stood up. "If I could consult with Agent Starkweather in private for one minute," she said to Skinner. Skinner waved them out.  
  
In the hallway, Starkweather hissed, "Something stinks in Denmark... and it stinks like an X-File."  
  
"Starkweather, do you really believe that this company has the capability to clone...." Scully forced herself to say the word: "Dinosaurs?"  
  
Starkweather scrunched her eyebrows. "I honestly don't know... but in the normal world, science has already found the way to clone a sheep, a cow and a monkey," she lowered her voice "and in the X-Files world, we know we've got human clones and alien replicants wandering around, we've got files and files on that crap. Why not a dinosaur? If they've got the DNA, a good genetic scientist can clone anything, Scully, you know that."  
  
Scully challenged her, "But dinosaurs? Starkweather... where could have viable dinosaur DNA survived?"  
  
"In the movie, they got it out of mosquitos preserved in amber."  
  
"That was a MOVIE."  
  
"I know, I know, that's what's so f*cked up about this," Starkweather groaned. "Scully, come on, this is ME, okay? I'm not gonna believe sh*t unless I see it but being married to Ben has taught me how to sniff out the breeds of lawyers and this lawyer is a snake. No morals, he goes for the kill so he can rake in the bucks."  
  
"He knows a lot about us," Scully mused. "Which makes me question, why us? You, I and Doggett are the Doubting Thomases of the team. If they wanted support.... why didn't they ask Reyes? Or even contact Mulder? Even though he's not an agent, he's still a consultant."  
  
"I don't get that either."  
  
"But we are in agreement that there's something fishy about this entire deal?"  
  
"Absolutely," Starkweather said feveredly. "I'm in if you and Mulder are in."  
  
"Mulder??" Starkweather and Mulder's feud was legendary. If she hadn't heard it from Starkweather's own lips, Scully wouldn't have believed it that Starkweather made the suggestion.  
  
"Oh, stop it. We're not exactly the nuclear family, but face it Scully," Starkweather sighed. "We need him. Plus I didn't particularly care how Schabasser was ripping on him." She gave Scully a naughty grin. "'Cuz nobody picks on my brudda 'cept fo' me."  
  
"You're impossible."  
  
"One of my many charms," Starkweather smiled. "Mulder will jump at the chance to ride along on an X-File again. If you're in, then I'm in. No questions asked."  
  
"Then as soon as that Snake-man leaves Skinner's office, I'm notifying him that I'm opening an X-File on this."  
  
Starkweather chuckled. "Snake-man,huh? I think Mulder and I are rubbing off of you...."  
  
Starkweather and Scully went back inside of Skinner's office. "Mr. Schabasser," Scully said as graciously as she could. "We would be honored to be part of your panel."  
  
"Wonderful!" Schabasser bounded up and first shook Starkweather's hand, then Scully's, lingering on Scully's. Starkweather turned her back to hide a snort of laughter. Scully fumed. "Now, how many plane tickets will we be needing? Four? Three? Two?" He smiled at Scully in a way he thought was suave, but made Scully want to erupt in laughter.  
  
"Four, I think," Scully said, working very hard to keep her lips straight. "Agent Starkweather, will Ben be joining us?"  
  
"Yes," Starkweather said, turning to face Scully again. "I'll tell him tonight."  
  
"Wonderful," Schabasser finally let go of Scully's hand and went to retrieve his briefcase. "Assistant Director, I appreciate you for allowing this," he thanked Skinner profusely. Skinner just grunted and started to read a case report.  
  
"Dr. Starkweather, Dr. Scully," Schabasser said as he departed.  
  
The minute Skinner's door was closed, Starkweather said "What a greaseball."  
  
"Sir," Scully said, "with your permission-"  
  
"Go ahead and open an X-File. I don't like the sound of this either."  
  
"Thank you sir," Scully said.  
  
As she and Starkweather turned to leave, Skinner said, "Agent Starkweather, could I see you alone for a minute."  
  
"Sure," Starkweather said coolly while thinking NOW WHAT????  
  
"I'll meet you downstairs," Scully said as she took her leave.  
  
Skinner invited Starkweather to sit, which she did. Skinner said, "Like I told you over the phone, I read Doggett's preliminary report. You did a good job, Agent Starkweather."  
  
"Thank you, sir."  
  
"I'm still pissed about the credit card bill you and Agent Scully ran up."  
  
"I'm sorry, sir."  
  
"And there is one section of this report that pertaining to a situation in a dance club called "Deuces Are Wild" that concerns me."  
  
"Yes sir??" Starkweather asked with a sinking heart, knowing exactly WHAT situation he was referring to.  
  
"This is just an off-the-records heads-up," Skinner said.  
  
"Okay...."  
  
"Be careful Jerilyn," he said. "The X-Files is not a popular division and there are several factions who would love to shoot us down and will use any ammunition they can get their hands on to do it."  
  
"Okay...."  
  
"And also... I've seen many good agents careers hampered by the rumor mill so bear that in mind."  
  
"Okay...." Starkweather's heart sank lower.  
  
"That's all," Skinner dismissed her.  
  
Starkweather passed Deputy Director Kersh in the hall. He nodded his head towards her, "Agent Starkweather," he said smugly as he walked by.  
  
"Sir," she responded as she walked towards the elevators. I hate him. she thought as she pressed the down button.  
  
Still later on that day....  
  
Scully's apartment  
  
Georgetown  
  
6:14 PM  
  
Scully, holding Will, fished for her keys in her pocket. "Sorry," Scully apologized to Starkweather, who was holding both of their briefcases and Will's diaper bag.  
  
"No big deal," Starkweather said as Scully finally found her doorkeys and let them all in. "Where should I put these?" she said, indicating her burden.  
  
"Just put it on the kitchen table," Scully said as she went to check her voice messages:  
  
"Dana? It's Mom. I'm just returning your call. I'll talk to you later. Love you, bye."  
  
"Scully, it's me. I'll stop by later."  
  
Scully turned around to see Starkweather walking up behind her. "Can you take Will while I go change?"  
  
"Sure... come here Prince William," Starkweather held her arms out for the baby. "Geez, kid, you're getting heavy," Starkweather groaned under the weight of the boy while Scully went into her bedroom so she could get out of her suit. Starkweather held her finger out for Will to grab, but he was more entertained by the shiny silver pendant around Starkweather's neck. With a yank, he pulled at it.  
  
Starkweather gagged. "Easy, kid," she said as she gently took it away from him. "Liked that huh? That was given to me by a new friend in Sioux City. It's a holy medal of St. Christopher. The Patron Saint of Travel. Too bad it's not of St. Jude, Patron Saint of Hopeless Causes." She tucked the medal underneath her shirt just as Scully came back out, barefoot and wearing a blue cotton t-shirt and khakis slacks. Starkweather noted with amusement that she had red nail polish on her toenails.  
  
"I can take him," Scully said. "I need to give him his supper now but we can talk while I feed him."  
  
"Alright," Starkweather said. "I can make iced tea or something while you're feeding him."  
  
"If you want to," Scully said, knowing Starkweather well enough now to know that she was just one of those people who had to be perputually busy. She set William in the high chair, showed Starkweather where her tea-things were and got out the baby food for William. As she started to feed William strained carrots, she said "So you believe that this company has the capability to clone dinosaurs."  
  
"Like I said earlier, any geneticist worth his salt can clone anything as long as they have DNA. The real mystery is where in the hell could dino DNA could have survived, unless the skeeter-in-the-amber part of the "Jurassic Park" movie is true... I mean, it makes sense... but... I don't know." Starkweather busied herself with iced tea preparations. "Do you want raspberry tea or orange tea?"  
  
"Raspberry."  
  
"What do you think is going on?"  
  
"I think... I think it's more than likely that this company has found a way to genetically alter already existing animals to resemble prehistoric animals. No, Will, don't-" The bowl of orange goo ended up on the floor, strained carrots everywhere. "Dammit," Scully muttered under her breath as Will giggled. "William, you are being naughty," she told the boy sternly. "Toss me a washcloth, Starkweather, please."  
  
Starkweather did so and asked "Need some help mopping that stuff up?"  
  
"No," Scully sighed. "This is what I do instead of aerobics."  
  
"Anyway..."  
  
"Anyway," Scully resumed the feeding of Will, which was more of Will pushing the spoon away from her. "Come on Boo," Scully pleaded. "Give your mother a break, please???? Anyway, I think that's more likely what's going on than the cloning of actual dinosaurs. All it would really take is the manipulation of the chromosomes of the fetus once  
  
it started to grow."  
  
"Is that legal?"  
  
"The laws of genetics right now are very vague. It grew too fast, too soon and the law-makers are still debating what's constitutional and  
  
what's not with genetic research, which means we as the law-enforcement don't have many weapons to fight with when we run into situations when there is a potential hazard to the public."  
  
"Such as a park of genetically engineered animals."  
  
"Precisely. And...Will... don't do that... and we haven't even touched on the ethics of it yet."  
  
"Geez.... you know... that makes more sense that actual dinosaurs. I just want to know what that slimy lawyer is up to. I thought I recognized his name, so while I was on my way here, I called Ben and told him a little bit what's up since I'm dragging him with. The guy we talked to today is Roald Schabasser of Schabasser, Gillian and Sita. They're one of the rivals of Carter, Spangle and Adams-" the lawfirm Ben worked for. "Ben said everyone at CS and A hates Schabasser. In fact, Cello, one of Ben's friends from work, is going to be going up against Schabasser in about two weeks. It sounds like it's going to be nasty but he didn't go into details."  
  
"Did he say what kind of trial?"  
  
"Copywrite infringement, slander, libel and fraud. Very ugly. One those cases that will drag on for literally months."  
  
"Ugh." Scully crinkled her nose. Will laughed, so Scully did it again. While Will's mouth was open, she pushed in a spoonful of food, which Will spit out gleefully.  
  
"Which, again, makes me wonder why the hell US? I mean, you said it Scully, you, me and Doggett are the die-hard skeptics, well, except for you 'cause you believe in aliens now, but everything else you question." Scully glared at her, but Starkweather went on. "Anyway, it just doesn't make sense."  
  
"I'm just wondering if they're only going to show us what they want us to see, get our stamp of approval and then go about their way," Scully said slowly as she wiped Will's face.  
  
"Well, then we better make sure we see what they don't WANT us to see, huh?" Starkweather smirked just as the front door opened and Mulder called out:  
  
"Scully, it's me..."  
  
Meanwhile  
  
Roald Schabasser's Office  
  
Schabasser, Gillian and Sita  
  
Washington DC  
  
Schabasser loved working late. It delayed the inevitable returning home to his corpulant wife and three screaming hellions the wife claimed where their children. No matter, she came from an old political family, which was all that really mattered. And he supposed he still loved her... well... he still liked her. Kind of.  
  
Anyway, he was not thinking about his family life, he was thinking of the conference call he was waiting for. He had to secure this case, this account, his position with the firm. His two partners, Elena Gillian and Veronica Sita had made it clear that they were tired of his shady reputations marring the image of their lawfirm. And God bless his faithful little receptionist for giving him the heads up that Elena and Veronica were conspiring to getting him kicked out of the firm. Kicked out! Fired. The senior partner of the lawfirm THAT HE STARTED. The b*tches.  
  
He couldn't afford to boot Veronica or Elena out because Veronica was vicious enough to press charges against him for sexual harassment and discrimination whereas Elena would return to her friends at Carter, Spangle and Adams and spill the beans about his strategic plans for the big copywrite infringement case he was working on.  
  
So, secure this case, secure this company and secure his own investment, save his ass and without warning, tell Veronica and Elena that he was leaving the firm on his own accord. It wasn't as much fun running a lawfirm as he thought it would be, although the money was fabulous. He nibbled on a pen and thought of the lovely doctors he met today in the Assistant Directors' office. Dr. Scully was captivating, he would certainly wouldn't object to getting to know her better. Dr. Starkweather, also attractive, but what a snotty b*tch she was. And she was married to the newest weasel at Carter, Spangle and Adams. Great. Schabasser frowned. The phone rang. "Roald Schabasser."  
  
"It's me," a deep vague voice responded. "Is everything in place?"  
  
"Yes sir."  
  
"The agents agreed?"  
  
"Yes sir, our Forum is complete."  
  
"I am still apprenhensive about the FBI agents. I still believe we picked the wrong two. We should have invited Agents Doggett and Reyes."  
  
"Sir, with all due respect, Agent Doggett is a strict by-the-books man. Nothing gets by him. Agent Reyes is getting a reputation as a flake. Higher- ups are always second guesser her. We need agents who no one will question, which are Agents Scully and Starkweather. Agent Scully is a new mother and Agent Starkweather is going through some... martial discord? Granted, they are the more skeptical and scientific, but they are also the one with the most distractions. They're perfect."  
  
"Are they bringing guests?"  
  
"Mrs. Starkweather is bringing Mr. Starkweather as expected. I don't know who Agent Scully will bring. Possibly her friend and ex-partner, Fox Mulder, but you can never be too sure."  
  
There was the slightest hestitation. Then, "Very well. I leave this in your hand, Roald." The phone went dead.  
  
Meanwhile....  
  
Back at Scully's  
  
Mulder tossed his keys on the table and walked into the kitchen. When he saw Starkweather making iced tea, he asked "Hey Snookums," he said to her, "after you get done with that, can you rub my feet?"  
  
"Ew." Starkweather's face crumpled up in disgust, "I'd rather lay down on a bed of c*ckroaches."  
  
"Can't you two just say 'hello' like normal people?" Scully groaned.  
  
Two pair of hazel eyes regarded Scully, then eachother. "Hello," Mulder's voice dripped with sarcasm.  
  
"Hello," Starkweather flung the sarcasm right back at him.  
  
Scully resisted the urge to beat her head into the wall, "Mulder, while Agent Starkweather is here, I need to talk to you about the latest case Skinner assigned to us."  
  
"'Agent' Starkweather," Mulder said, leaning over to kiss Will's dirty face. "You must mean business if you're attaching 'Agent' onto a friend's name."  
  
"It is," Starkweather said. "An X-File just dropped in our lap today and you're going with." She did a double take at the puppy in Mulder's arm. "Since when have you been capable of keeping another creature alive?"  
  
Mulder opened his mouth, then shut it very rapidly, remember the two dead mollies and one dead Beta fish. "Speaking of creatures," Mulder said, taking out a diskette. "Remind me I have something to show you two when you get done briefing me. I'm going to change," and with that he disappeared into Scully's room, still carrying Tummy.  
  
Starkweather looked at Scully. "Why don't you two just get married and get it over with?"  
  
Scully blushed and said. "I'm happy with the way things are right now." At least he's here and alive she said to herself privately.  
  
"Can't you at least live in sin?" Starkweather asked.  
  
Before Scully could answer, Mulder came back out in a pair of faded jeans and a black t-shirt. Tummy the puppy followed him slavishly.  
  
Starkweather, a die-hard cat-person, looked down at the little dog, cringed but said nothing. She sat down at the kitchen table next to Scully. Mulder leaned against the counter. "Tell me yours and I'll tell you mine."  
  
Scully filled Mulder in on the events in Skinner's office. Starkweather said nothing. She seemed to be a thousand miles away, but both Mulder and Scully knew her well enough that every word was sinking into that massive brain of hers. She missed nothing.  
  
Mulder, as well, listened to Scully without moving a muscle in his face, his eyes never wavering from Scully's face.  
  
"So," Scully said. "What do you think?"  
  
"I think..." Mulder said slowly. "You two better see this." He disappeared into the living room.  
  
Starkweather snapped back to life, gave Scully a "What-the-hell?" look and darted after Mulder. Scully hastily cleaned William up and balancing Will on her hip, joined the brother and sister in the living room. Tummy, not liking being all alone, bounded after Scully.  
  
Mulder was at Scully's computer. Starkweather had pulled a chair out and was sitting next to him. Scully and William hovered right behind Mulder. "What are you doing?" she asked as he put the diskette into Scully's computer drive.  
  
"Remember Manny Iberra?" he asked.  
  
"Oh God..." both women groaned.  
  
"NOW what did he do?" Starkweather asked.  
  
"It's not what he did, it's what was sent to him and what he wants me to forward to YOU, Scully, being that you're the head of the X-Files now," Mulder droned. "However, it sounds like you've got the heads-up about this place sooner than I did, but I don't believe your theory about already existing creatures being manipulated to resemble prehistoric creatures is accurate, Scully."  
  
"You think that they really made...." Scully forced the words out. "Dinosaurs? You really believe that they someone found dinosaur DNA that survived, after all this time... over several millemnia, dinosaur DNA exists and they have built dinosaurs from this DNA and plan on building an AMUSEMENT park to profit from it???"  
  
"Mulder, buying into the extreme possibilities... shock. Surprise. Dismay," Starkweather deadpanned, leaning her chin in her hand, watching Mulder click on icons on the computer screen. "Come on, Mulder, Scully's right. Where in the hell could they have gotten the dinosaur DNA fro-" Starkweather's eyes, along with Scully's bugged out when Mulder opened a jpg file. "Holy sh*t..." Starkweather said.  
  
"Mulder..." Scully took a step closer. "What is that?"  
  
"That, Scully, is, to me, although I've never seen one living, a Tyrannasaurus Rex. This was taken by a college student, one Nicholetta Bocelli-Jones, a pre-vet and biology major at UCLA. She had apparently taken an internship at this park, but roughly a night ago, had a bad fright and demanded to be removed from the island. Currently, she's in a padded cell at secluded private hospital for the mentally disturbed in Beverly Hills. She's not taking visitors at this time. Our buddy, Manny has two brothers working as guards at the island. They removed this digital camera from the girl's backpack figuring the girl would be too... disturbed to go to the proper authorities. Apparently, Manny has been telling tales to the folks back home and so, the brothers sent the disk to him via FedEx, who paid me a visit today at City Hall.  
  
"I thought Manny got sent back to Mexico?" Starkweather asked.  
  
"The Lone Gunmen helped him get his green card," Mulder said flatly.  
  
"Oh." Starkweather made a mental note to kill the Lone Gunmen.  
  
Scully meanwhile, was examining the picture. "This..." she said, "could be a hoax, Mulder." With her free hand, she pointed at the giant lizardlike monster. "Mulder, you and I and Starkweather know that there is a popular series of movies out there called Jurassic Park out there-"  
  
Mulder lit up. "I know, Tea Leoni is in the third one," he beamed. Ever since Mulder and Scully visited the set of "The Lazurus Cup," the pathetically awful movie about their work, Mulder has held a very pathetic crush for the leggy blond actress. Starkweather and Scully rolled their eyes.  
  
"The point I'm trying to make, Mulder," Scully said patiently. "Is that someone could have easily downloaded from a DVD disk, a frame from the movie and converted it into a jgp file."  
  
"She's right Mulder... but..." Starkweather scooted closer to look at the frame. "I've seen all three Juarasic Park... and by the way Mulder... Tea Leoni sucks... anyway... I don't remember this," she traced the outline of the roaring T-Rex with her pointer finger, "being a part of the movie. But then again, it is fairly easy to manipulate a photograph with the right computer software. Then again... it's a little too MUCH of a coincidence that Mulder received this disk from this island right after Scully and I receive an invitation to be part of a "Forum" for the same said island... dammit," Starkweather sighed. "I'm questioning myself," she grumbled.  
  
Mulder, for once, seemed to be questioning himself as well. "Maybe I should have the Stooges look into this to see if it's authentic or not..." he murmurred although he seemed to be contemplating something.  
  
"Maybe," Scully said delicately, "you won't have to. Langly has been invited to be part of the panel to critique the island."  
  
"LANGLY??" Mulder looked over at Starkweather. "Lucky you," he purred.  
  
Starkweather responded by rolling her eyes and putting her head to the table and thumping it several times. "Yeah," she muttered after banging her head, "lucky me." She sat up. "Fortunately Ben will be coming with me to scare Langly off...."  
  
*****************************************  
  
Twenty four hours before Ben,  
  
Jerilyn, Mulder and Scully  
  
are supposed to leave for the island....  
  
"I'm not going."  
  
In frustration, Jerilyn ceased to pack, angrily flung one of Ben's t-shirts to the floor like a spoiled child and put her fingers to the bridge of her nose. "Why???" she asked, quietly simmering.  
  
Twenty four hours before Ben,  
  
Jerilyn, Mulder and Scully  
  
are supposed to leave for the island....  
  
Ben and Jeri's Apartment  
  
Washington DC  
  
"I'm not going."  
  
In frustration, Jerilyn ceased to pack, angrily flung one of Ben's t-shirts to the floor like a spoiled child and put her fingers to the bridge of her nose. "Why???" she asked, quietly simmering.  
  
Ben sat on the couch, sullening chain smoking. "Steve Cello at the lawfirm just approached me today about assisting him with the copywrite infringement case he's working on. I told him I'd help him."  
  
"This happened just today??" Starkweather said. "You could have told me sooner."  
  
"Well, how many times have plans of ours been shot down when you had to go to work?" Ben asked.  
  
"Ben, that's different."  
  
"How?"  
  
"You're behaving like a child."  
  
"I'm not the one throwing clothes around," Ben said icily.  
  
"Ben," Starkweather said patiently. "You and Cello are going up against Schabasser for the same case and Schabasser is going WITH us. We really need you there. **I** need you there."  
  
"Jeri," Ben said patiently. "We need to take advantage of the fact that Schabasser is taking a little vacation. He is gift-wrapping time for us to work on this case. We can't let this opportunity slide. Besides," he reminded her. "I got involved in an X-Files once before and I nearly got killed. I told you I would leave the X-Files up to the professionals. I don't belong with you, Mulder and the rest of the basement crew."  
  
"This is different," Jerilyn said tiredly. "We aren't going up against the Syndicate. This is something entirely... different," she finished lamely as Caesar leapt on on the coffee table and curled up on the clean clothes inside the unzipped bag. "Caesar, get out," Jerilyn tried to shoo him off, but Caesar ignored her. "Damn cat."  
  
"Jeri," Ben said. "I can't go. I'm sorry."  
  
Jerilyn picked Caesar up and put him on the floor. Caesar twitched his tail and leapt back up into the duffel bag. "Ben," Jerilyn put her hands on her hips and looked up at the ceiling, trying to come up with the right words. "If you can't go, that's one thing.... if you don't WANT to go.... that's different and you need to tell me."  
  
"Okay, fine," Ben said raggedly. "If that's what you want to hear."  
  
"NO. It's NOT what I want to hear, but I'd like to get some straight answers from yo-"  
  
Ben interupted her with a snort. "Straight answers," he laughed bitterly. "You, of all people, should talk."  
  
"I don't understand," Jerilyn tried to feign innocence.  
  
"You never did tell me about your... excitement... in Sioux City," Ben remarked all-too-casually.  
  
Jerilyn opened her mouth, shut it again. She bit her lip. "Um..." She dithered a bit more. "Well... you're not going to like it very much," she said meekly.  
  
Ben sat on the couch and lit another cigarette. The flame from his Zippo illuminated his face in such an eerie fashion Jerilyn wondered briefly who she had married...  
  
**************************  
  
Meanwhile....  
  
Scully's apartment.....  
  
Scully put a sleeping William in his bassinet. She paused over the crib, looking at the constellation mobile that hung over the baby. She gave it a gentle push. It squeaked. She frowned. She'd have to find some oil or something to grease it up. "Good night sweet William," she whispered as she tiptoed out of her bedroom.  
  
She found Mulder laying on the couch, dead asleep with the puppy snoozing on his chest, the television set blaring. She couldn't help think back to Starkweather's words Can't you at least live in sin? Scully held back a sigh. She doesn't understand. She doesn't understand that this... having Mulder here.... isn't going to last forever. A wedding band was not strong enough to keep him physically with her. Scully knew with an ache in her heart that the day was coming when she'd have to decide between Mulder and William. What she was learning however, was to enjoy each moment with them while she had them both.  
  
She removed Tummy from Mulder's chest and turned off the TV. Mulder opened his eyes. "Boo asleep?"  
  
Scully placed her head on his chest and closed her own eyes when she felt Mulder playing with her hair. "Mmm - hmmm..."  
  
Scully placed her head on his chest and closed her own eyes when she felt Mulder playing with her hair. "Mmm - hmmm..." She could feel his heart beat. She felt herself being lulled to sleep by its gentle rhythm.  
  
"I'm glad you're bringing me with, Scully," Mulder told her. "This will be like old times. You with your damn scientific rationale... me always being right."  
  
"You," Scully said dreamily, "are NOT always right."  
  
"Name a time where I was wrong," he challenged her as he stopped playing with her hair and wrapped his arms around her frame. "Well?"  
  
"Diana Fowley."  
  
"Oh, that is just not fair," Mulder groaned. "Scully, that's hitting below the belt."  
  
Scully smiled serenely and slid off of him, "You asked," she reminded him. "I'm going to finish packing for tomorrow."  
  
She slipped back into her bedroom, illuminated only by the porcelain teddy bear nightlight Frohike had bought for William. In the soft half-light, she opened her closet as quietly as possible. She could hear William's soft breath going in and out as he slept. She could hear Mulder's footsteps padding towards her bedroom. She felt his arms go around her waist and his breath on her neck. "At least," Mulder whispered to her, careful not to wake the baby "at least I've never been wrong about you... even though you shot me." He nuzzled his chin inbetween her neck and shoulder.  
  
"Mulder," Scully turned around in his arms and wrapped her arms around his neck "that was six years ago. I think that's a grudge against me you can let go of now." She ran her fingers through his tousled hair.  
  
Mulder kissed her forehead thoughtfully. "Nah," he finally decided.  
  
"Mulder, I shot you to protect yourself. You were about to-" Mulder shut her up with a gentle kiss to the mouth.  
  
"Don't talk," he admonished her as his hands slid under her t-shirt to delve into the age-old mystery of the brassiere snap. "You'll wake the baby." Before Scully could protest, he was sliding her shirt off and guiding her towards the bed.  
  
Too busy with silky hands and frenzied kisses, neither one heard the squeak of William's mobile, moving by itself while the baby slept.  
  
****************************************  
  
Meanwhile...  
  
Ben and Jeri's  
  
Ben stared her down like a lying witness. "Whether I like it or not, Jerilyn," Ben said frostily, "I would be VERY interested in what happened between you and the good Agent Doggett on your little trip."  
  
That comment only served to fuel her fiery temper and scare timidity away. "It's not what you think!" she lashed at him.  
  
"Enlighten me," Ben snarled.  
  
Jerilyn glared at him. "I was in a situation where my cover could have been blo-" The phone rang shrilly. "Let it ring," Jerilyn commanded him, but Ben ignored her.  
  
"Hello? Yeah.... yeah... yeah... alright," he looked at Jerilyn, fire in his eyes. Jerilyn crossed her arms and scowled right back at him. "I'll be there in an half-hour." He hung up the phone. "Cello's holding a meeting. I have to be there."  
  
"Sure. Fine. Whatever," Jerilyn unwittingly mimicked Scully.  
  
Ben stuffed some files into his briefcase angrily. He paused in front of Jerilyn and took a deep breath. "Does it matter to you at all..." Ben asked. "That I love you?"  
  
Jerilyn took a step back. "What happened between me and Agent Doggett," she told him, shaking in anger that her fidelity to him was once again being questioned "is not what you believe it to be."  
  
Ben looked into her eyes and down into her soul. "Whatever happened between you and Agent Doggett," he said, his voice trembling, whether from anger or sorrow or both, Jerilyn couldn't tell. "Is not what YOU believe it to be."  
  
"I don't under- what the hell are you getting at?" Jerilyn asked.  
  
But Ben just turned his back on her and walked out.  
  
Starkweather was left alone in her apartment to fume. God damn him she raged. "Well, now what?" she asked the cat still snoozing in her duffel bag. Caesar looked up as if to say "I give a rat's ass??"  
  
Starkweather promptly went into the kitchen and fetched herself a beer. She pulled her date book out of her briefcase and flipped it open to the address/phone number section. If Ben was going to be an assh*le, fine, f*ck him. She'd find someone else to take with her. There was no way in hell she was going to be the third wheel, what with Mulder going along. Besides, she still needed someone to scare Langly off. She got out a giant bag of Tositos Lime flavored chips and a jar of salsa and plunked down at her kitchen table with her cell phone.  
  
Problem was, she didn't know very many people in DC yet. Munching on chips, she scanned through her planner, looking morosely at all the phone numbers of all of her friends and family, that lived hundreds, even thousands of miles away. She paused at Monica Reyes' number. She dialled her cell phone and dialled.  
  
"Hello, you have reached Monica Reyes. I'm sorry I missed your call, but please leave your name, number and a detailed message and I'll get back to you as soon as possible. Thanks." Beep.  
  
Starkweather hung up. "If you're a psychic, why do you need an answering machine?" she wondered aloud.  
  
She stalled, trying to delay the inevitble. She even toyed with calling AD Skinner, asking if HE wanted to go with, then shuddered in horror at the idea of spending a long weekend with her boss.  
  
So, she did what she knew she would end up doing anyway.  
  
What Ben essentially drove her to.  
  
******************************  
  
Meanwhile....  
  
John Doggett's apartment  
  
If Starkweather was having a crappy day, Doggett's was going absolutely gruesome. He had been sent out to investigate a one-room school room for purported haunting, which turned out to be a big false alarm, as he had suspected, which was why he told Starkweather to stay behind. He didn't expect the falling apart building to be a lurve shack for two horny high school students. Doggett chased them off with a furious warning. Then, on his journey back to DC, the transmission dropped out of his rental car, which meant he walked for two and a half hours in the blistering summer sun to the nearest town. The Kum and Go gas station he waited for Reyes to pick him up at had no air-conditioning and their refrigerator was broken, meaning no cold drinks. Once he got back to Washington, Kersh called him up to his office to "discuss" his case report but in reality to grill him about his "relationship" with Agent Starkweather. Doggett left Kersh's office in a foul mood, tired of people assuming the worse between him and Starkweather. When he got home, he had a nasty call from his auto insurance agent, informing him smugly that that claim on his truck was being denied. Domino's messed up his pizza order (they gave him a sausage pizza instead of a beef and mushroom pizza) and to top it all off, his cable went out halfway through the Braves game. "Oh Christ's sake!!!" Doggett exploded.  
  
At that point, he gave up and decided just to shower and go to bed. As he finishing rinsing shampoo out of his eyes when he heard the phone ring. He decided to let the machine get it. He then heard a familiar, snotty feminine voice on the other end:  
  
"Pick up the phone Papa John. I know you're home and I know this because you have no life. And I really need to talk to you so I'm going to sit here and talk to your answering machine until you pick up. Soooooooo pick up. Pickuppickuppickuppickuppickuppicku-"  
  
Doggett bolted from the shower, wrapped a towel about his waist and lunged for the phone. "What?!"  
  
"Will you marry me?"  
  
"WHAT??"  
  
"You know that little expedition me, Mulder and Scully and Ben were all supposed to go on?" Starkweather said to Doggett, "Well, Ben bailed at the last minute, so I need to find a new Mr. Starkweather to replace him. Interested? Free trip to Mexico. Chase monsters AND get a tan. What took you so long to answer the phone, by the way?"  
  
"This is really short notice, Doc. I thought y'all gonna leave tomorrow."  
  
"We are."  
  
Doggett sighed. The woman was impossible. "Starkweather, I don't know, I don't think that's fair to leave Reyes alone in the office..."  
  
"Aw come on Doggett, the case load is at a all time low right now, we're only going to be gone for a few days. Besides, whilst you were walking down the Highway to Hell after trashing another car on the Bureau's dime-"  
  
"That was NOT my fault."  
  
"-me and Scully were pulling research on this genetics company that's running the show and I don't know Doggett but man... the more and more I learn about this, the less and less I like it. This company is in arrears big time. I mean, if it's mortgagable, they've got it mortgaged. The IRS is sniffing after it, but now here's the interesting thing, okay? According to stock reports Scully pulled, their stock, as of six months ago, was worth crap. Crap meaning, five, six bucks a share. That's pathetic. Here's the scoop. Alot of this cheapy stock was bought up by our dearly, departed friend, Justin Leo."  
  
"Leo?" Doggett shook his head. "That name sounds familiar."  
  
"Oh I forgot," Starkweather sighed. "You bonked your head royally when we all saved Ben from the Syndicate and you don't remember a whole lot." Actually, Doggett was in the body of Dr. Samuel Beckett at the Quantum Leap Headquarters fifteen years in the future and it was actually Sam in Doggett's body at that time. However, neither Doggett or Starkweather would realize that for years to come. "Leo was a darling of a lawyer used to be with Carter, Spangle and Adams. He convieniently rigged it so Ben got a case pertaining to the oil rig fiasco you and Mulder worked on. Ben got too close to the truth and like a dumb ass, didn't listen to me as usual and got himself kidnapped by Leo-"  
  
"Did you and Ben have another fight?"  
  
"-and another old friend of Mulder and Scully's, although I have yet the pleasure to make his aquaintance, the Cancer Man. Leo then faked Ben's death and tried to frame Mulder for it. Leo WAS a brilliant attorney, but along the way, his little lawyer mind snapped. He believes that aliens kidnapped his high school sweetheart. Basically, he's what Mulder could have become if Scully hadn't been around to slap some sense into him."  
  
"You know, Starkweather, I think you can tell me that story over again and again and I don't think I'll ever remember it on my own."  
  
"That's okay. That's beside the point. The point is that Justin Leo's a rat who was convieniently buying up all this worthless stock. Pity he didn't survive the fall from the warehouse into the Potomac River."  
  
"Why is that?"  
  
"That stock is selling now... are you sitting down? When the Nasdaq closed today, it was at seventy-one dollars and thirteen cents."  
  
"Holy sh*t." Doggett did the math. "That is huge money. Insider trading, I presume?"  
  
"You presume correctly. Leo HAD to of known something was going down and he was gonna get in on it. Plus, get this. Mulder, I don't know how and I don't want to know how, got in touch with a medic who works at a hospital on an American military base in Puerto Rico. Several workers from this La Isla la Luna Blanca, the Island of the White Moon, where the park is? Several workers have been biovacked (sp??) from Luna Blanca to Puerto Rico to this hospital. All of them have suffered severe trauma which according to the medical reports, look like animal attacks."  
  
"Animal attacks?"  
  
"That's right. Maulings. The last guy, was a freaking vet. Animal doc, not war hero. Anyway, he didn't have a face left. He died two days ago. There's only one survivor but all he can do is blink. His spinal cord was gnawed through."  
  
"Jesus."  
  
"Doggett, we could really use another agent on this."  
  
"Can I bring my gun?"  
  
"Are you kidding me??? I'm bringing BOTH of mine and I'm toying with the idea of buying a bazooka. Mulder, Scully and I aren't in agreement of what the f*ck is going down there. Mulder is convinced it's dinosaur cloning. Scully still believes it already existing animals being genetically manipulated to look like prehistoric animals. As for me, well, to be honest, I'm riding the fence on this one. But I do believe that whatever the hell is going down, it's probably immoral and potentially dangerous. Are you in?"  
  
"Yeah," Doggett gave in. "I'm in. I'll call Skinner right now and tell him of the change of plans."  
  
"Tell him I begged you to come along so we could keep a reign on Mulder," Starkweather suggested. "He'll buy that. Hey you never did answer my question. What took you so long to answer the phone? I thought you'd be glued to the TV, watching the ball game."  
  
"My cable went out," Doggett grumbled. "And I was in the shower when you called."  
  
"Oops." Starkweather didn't sound the least bit apologetic. "Want me to pick you up tomorrow?"  
  
"Sure... hey, Doc?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Talk to Ben yet?"  
  
"Um..."  
  
"JERILYN."  
  
"Ooh... first name... ouch."  
  
"Well, goddammit, you can't put this off. ESPECIALLY since we're leaving for another mission."  
  
"Well, he's not speaking to me at the moment. So I'll have to wait until he decides to get off his f*cking pedestal and speak to my lowly ass again, alright?"  
  
"Don't wait too long."  
  
"Doggett... it's getting to the point where's there's almost nothing to wait for anymore."  
  
"Then WHY stay?"  
  
"I don't know... I gotta go, I wanna call Scully and tell her of the change in plans. Don't forget to call Skinner."  
  
"I'll call him as soon as I get off with you. See you tomorrow."  
  
"Bye," Starkweather hung up her cell. Took a deep breath. Then WHY stay? "He doesn't get it," she muttered to herself. "He just doesn't get it..." she dialled Scully's number...  
  
**************************************  
  
Meanwhile,  
  
Scully's apartment  
  
The phone rang. A naked arm shot out from underneath the comforter, searching for the phone. Once found, Scully sat up, clutching the sheets to her body. "Hello??" she blurted out. Lazily, Mulder's hand reached up to trace a design on her bare back.  
  
"Scully, it's me." Starkweather never introduced herself either. "I just needed to let you know that there's a change of plans."  
  
"Plans? Change?" Scully's brain was still hovering in the clouds created by great sex. It would take her a bit to come down.  
  
"Ben's being a buttmunch and he bailed on me, so Doggett's taking his place tomorrow."  
  
"Um... 'kay..." Scully was extremely distracted by Mulder's fingertip traveling slowly up and down her spine. "Stop that," she whispered only to have Mulder grin naughtily at her instead as he continued to play.  
  
Meanwhile, Starkweather had the sinking feeling that her phone call may have been completely unwanted at that point in time. "Um... Scully... I'm not interrupting anything... am I?????" She started to take a drink from her beer.  
  
"No, Starkweather, you're not interrupting anythi-"  
  
Mulder, upon hearing his little half-sister's last name, butted in: "Hey Scully, when you come back to bed," he called out, "Can you bring me some coffee?"  
  
Scully turned crimson. Mulder could clearly hear Starkweather spewing her drink on the other end, "Oh God...." she gagged and coughed "I'm sorry. I'm really really sorry... I'm gonna go now. Sorry. I'm so sorry. Bye." And, feeling like an ass, Starkweather hung up her cell and buried her head in her hands. "I hate my life!!!" she whined.  
  
Meanwhile, Scully turned to Mulder, furious. "Mulder, what the hell??? That was rude and inappropriate and crass and embarrassing and immature and idiotic and- and- and-" Scully ran out of insults.  
  
Mulder, wearing a big old sh*t-eating grin on his face, said in a sing-song voice "But you love me." He reached for her hand and kissed his, his hazel eyes twinkling at her.  
  
"Mulder..." Scully steeled herself. "I'm still really angry at you."  
  
"But you love me." He sat up in bed now, giving her the puppy-dog eyes while kissing up her arm.  
  
"You're such an ass sometimes, Fox Mulder!" Scully burst out.  
  
Mulder was now kissing her shoulder, her collarbone, her throat, her chin. His lips barely grazed hers as he murmurred "But you love me."  
  
With a groan, Scully gave in and shifted the sheets off of her so she could wrap her legs around his waist. "You're lucky I do," she whispered in his ear before nibbling it. "Otherwise my aim would have been truer when I shot you."  
  
Tacoma Falls  
  
The Gunmen's Lair  
  
"Mail call!" Byers hollared as he came into their lair. Frohike had taken the van to be serviced.  
  
"Langly," he scolded, "it's really bad business for the newsletter if you keep getting paranoid about every time someone visits the door. That wasn't a platinum blonde b*tch packing a gun, that was the UPS."  
  
"Yeah, well...you can't be too careful..." Langly pouted.  
  
"Anthrax has been around since WWII...you know that as well as I do. This letter for you looks official."  
  
"Has the new scanning equipment arrived yet?" Langly wondered, disregarding Byers completely, and studying the letter with the scrutiny of an archeaologist. "Who KNOWS how many fingerprints and DNA traces are already on this baby."  
  
"Hey Langly," Byers called out after he logged on, "did you get something from Mulder? He said he rewrote a disk he got from old pal Manny and is fedexing it to us to check it out. He says Manny couldn't send it to us direct for fear of being traced."  
  
"I'm a foremost expert in hacking." Langly read allowed. "And I'm being asked to join a pannel with Ian Malcom, Alan Grant, Scully, and Starkweather. I'm gonna go take a look at genetic developements on that island in that Jurassic Park movie. Byers, think you've got a suit I can borrow?"  
  
"Langly," Byers scoffed, "you were selected because I bet there's no way to log on to a tropical island and none of the other hackers wanted to go because they'd hafta miss out on D&D."  
  
"You're an expert only because certain friends of ours in the FBI save our *sses." Frohike said as he came in. "Damn wrench-snakes charged us almost a grand for a size no bigger than Langly's balls. Hey boys, wanna see if we can hack into the clearing house sweepstakes and be this year's winner?"  
  
Langly gulped. "I'd hafta open the door. And THEY'd know where the lair is."  
  
"Langly...you need to log off more..." Byers sighed.  
  
The next day  
  
Scully's apartment  
  
Before leaving the Airport  
  
Margaret Scully was convinced that she was going to have to wrench William out of her daughter's arm. "Everything will be fine, Dana," Maggie cooed as she held her arms out for William. "You and Fox will have a nice time, I'm sure."  
  
"It's not really a vacation, Mom," Scully said, finally handing Will over to his grandmother.  
  
Mulder came out of the bedroom, carrying one large suitcase in one hand and a large duffel bag slung over his back. Scully's eyes, however, were drawn to the small pet carrier in his other hands. "Ready?" Mulder asked innocently.  
  
"Mulder... what's in that carrier?" Scully drew herself up tall. Tummy yipped happily. "Mulder, we are NOT taking the dog with."  
  
"Why not?" Mulder said as he approached Maggie and the baby. Kissing him on the forehead, he said "Bye Boo," and then he surprised Maggie by kissing her on the cheek. "We'll be back before you know it," he promised Maggie.  
  
"It sounds like fun," Maggie said as she walked them to the door. "I wish I had a job where I could have an all expense paid vacation to the tropics." Mulder and Scully smiled wanly.  
  
Last minute kisses for William and then finally Mulder and Scully made it to Scully's car. "Mulder, if that dog gets devoured by something," Scully said, turning the ignition on.  
  
"You worry too much," Mulder said blithely. He was in rapture. He was in paradise. He was included in an X-File. Life was good.  
  
********************************************  
  
Meanwhile....  
  
"Thank you for watching Caesar for me," Starkweather told her next door neighbor, Beth Johnson, who just happened to be a cop.  
  
"Oh it's no problem. God, I envy you, Jeri," Beth sighed, taking Caesar in her arms. "Going off to a tropical paradise with your man."  
  
"It's not what you think," Starkweather said, slinging her duffel bag on her back. "its for work. And Ben's staying home. He's just not going to be around to watch the cat." I'm assuming since he didn't come home last night she thought dismally.  
  
"Oh... well, Caesar and I will have a good time, won't we kitty?" Beth said to the cat. The cat gave her a dirty look.  
  
Starkweather stroked the cat's head affectionately. "Bye you brat," she told Caesar. "I'll come get him Sunday," she told Beth and left to go pick up Doggett.  
  
A little bit later  
  
The Marriott Hotel  
  
Washington DC  
  
"I thought we were flyin' out?" Doggett said, confused.  
  
"Well, me too," Starkweather said as she manuveured her car into a parking garage. "But I think we're all supposed to meet here and then we're all going to caravan together to the airport." She popped the trunk and as she was getting out, a sleek, classy car pulled up and parked right next to them. Scully and Mulder got out.  
  
"Hey, Hurricane," Mulder said broadly.  
  
Starkweather scowled at him. "How was your coffee?" she asked tartly.  
  
Scully turned pink and hurried to get her luggage out of the backseat. Doggett had his usual "What-the-f*ck" look on his face and said "Huh?"  
  
"Nevermind," Scully said sharply. "Mulder come get your dog."  
  
"Dog? What dog?" Doggett asked as Starkweather groaned.  
  
Mulder took the carrier and a suitcase from Scully. When everyone was burdened down with luggage and started walking towards the hotel, Mulder introduced Doggett to the newest love in his life "This is Tummy," he said proudly, holding the carrier up so Doggett could peer through the wire mesh door.  
  
"Tummy. Um, okay then," Doggett was fast learning there are just some aspects to Mulder's personality, you just don't want to ask about.  
  
"If he gets to bring his dog," Starkweather crabbed as they crossed the busy street, "then I want to go home and get my cat."  
  
"Why don't you do that?" Mulder said coolly. "I forget to bring Tummy's chew toys along. Caesar will do nicely."  
  
"Caesar would slice, dice and julianne your little mutt before you could say 'Extra-terristial'."  
  
Doggett looked at Scully. "Anyway we can leave those two at home?"  
  
Scully sighed. "Don't tempt me, Agent Doggett."  
  
They all entered the hotel lobby.  
  
The agents and the Deputy Mayor, with their ragtag luggage and Tummy yipping gleefully in his carrier, looked around the opulant lobby. "Does anyone else feel totally out of place?" Mulder muttered as the wealthy milled about the lobby, staring at the quartet with wide, horrified eyes.  
  
"Jesus, if it rains, all of these people are going to drown," Starkweather muttered, glaring at a tall, haughty blond woman, dressed to the nines in a Christian Dior business suit. Starkweather, in a blue t-shirt and a pair of Calvin Klein jeans she rescued from a GoodWill, glared at her from over the pair of sunglasses she bought for seven bucks at a truck stop. The woman paused to regard Starkweather's attire, from the white handerchief Starkweather had folded into a triangle and tied over her head to the sandals Starkweather bought at Target and sniffed disapprovingly. Starkweather glowered at her but said nothing.  
  
The snob then turned to regard Mulder, clad in a pair of well-worn dark blue jeans, except for a sprinkling of white splotches down the leg where he had accidentally spilled bleach and a light gray T-shirt with a dark stain on the shoulder where William had tossed a spoonful of plums onto. Mulder didn't notice until they had become pressed for time and there was no time to change his shirt so he had tried to rub the stain out the best of his ability. When the rich b*tch looked down at Mulder's beloved Nike running shoes and made another audible snif of distaste, Mulder asked her, "What? I showered today. What's the problem?"  
  
The woman gasped, put a bony hand to her nonexistant breast and walked away very quickly.  
  
"Very diplomatic, Deputy Mayor," Scully groaned. She as well, was dressed for comfort, in a pair of well-loved khakis slacks and a white form-fitting tanktop, with an unbuttoned short sleeved hunter green blouse over it. Her hair was actually long enough to put in a ponytail again, something Mulder hadn't seen her do since the very first case they worked together.  
  
Mulder shrugged. "I can wield diplomacy like a rapier, Scully. It's just easier to use a sledgehammer."  
  
Doggett's arms hurt from being a gentlemen and carrying his and Starkweather's luggage. "Look... I'm tired of the upper crust lookin' at us like we're the crumbs of society," Doggett complained, feeling very uncomfortable in his white t-shirt, his blue jeans with the one small hole in the knee and his cherished black cowboy boots while others draped in Armani and Versace wandered around him. Like any good country boy, he despised people who felt the need to validate themselves through clothing. He, himself, could live without suits, but he wore them because the FBI made him. "Let's go find everyone else who don't fit in and join 'em."  
  
Just then, Langly approached them, "Hey, guys what's up?" he beamed, wearing a borrowed, boring suit of Byers which was much to large for him. His greasy blond hair was tied back in a ponytail with a piece of shoestring and his huge black eyeglasses were sliding down his nose.  
  
"Well," Starkweather announced, "here's one."  
  
Langly, horrendously overexcited because, one, he was working an X-File in an official capacity and two, the lovely, if not slightly... okay majorly b*tchy Starkweather was coming along for the ride, talked a mile a minute. "Mulder, isn't this great? They asked for ME to come with," he crowed. "Not Byers or Frohike. Just goes to show who's kungfu's the best, huh? And I can't wait to check out the secutiy systems at this place. And hey, Frohike's running the diagnostics on the jpg pic you sent us. He'll call me whether or not it's real..." he ran out of steam when he finally noticed Doggett's looming presence. "Hey, Dogbert, I didn't know you were coming," he muttered darkly. He looked around, tried to act causal. "Sooo... um... where's Mr. Starkweather?"  
  
"Working," Starkweather said. "Agent Doggett was good enough to take his place." She looped her arm through Doggett's, not an easy feet since he was still carrying their suitcases and Starkweather had a heavy backpack on her. "Agent Doggett, it's noon somewhere on this planet, can I tempt you in an adult beverage?" and the two started walking off.  
  
Behind them, they could hear Langly grilling Mulder and Scully: "So... is she like REALLY in love with her husband? I mean, seriously, how committed is she? Are you sure she doesn't have one of those 'open marriage' type of things?"  
  
Starkweather groaned as she and Doggett entered the bar. "Dear God, Papa John, save me from that man." She groaned.  
  
"He keeps it up, I'm gonna hang him from his borrowed necktie, that's for damn sure," Doggett grumbled.  
  
"Excuse me," a pleasant male voice interrupted. Doggett and Starkweather both looked up.  
  
"Yes?" Starkweather looked up at the voice's source.  
  
"Judging from your clothes... I take it you two part of Unigen International's panal?"  
  
"Um... yes?" Starkweather's eyes shifted to Doggett, then back at the stranger. Doggett shook his head barely. Starkweather asked "Are you as well, sir?"  
  
"Yes," he smiled. "I am. Are you the Agent Scully or Agent Starkweather?"  
  
"I'm the Agent Starkweather."  
  
"Ah... you must be Mr. Starkweather then," the man held out his hand to Doggett.  
  
Doggett torturedly hung his head and Starkweather bit her lip, trying hard not to laugh.  
  
"Someone forgot to do their homework." Starkweather grumbled.  
  
"Sorry?" the man eyed them quizzically.  
  
"I'm not her husband," Doggett volunteered. The man immediately grinned sheepishly. "I'm her partner in the FBI." He said, then flashing his badge. "Special Agent John Doggett."  
  
"Oh...I apologize for the mistake," The man fumbled immediately, "I was informed that Mrs. Starkweather was bringing her husband with her...so I just assumed..."  
  
"Well, you know what they say about those of us who assume..." Starkweather grumbled, to which Doggett flashed her a warning glare. "And who exactly are you?"  
  
"I'm Dr. Alan Grant, Agent Starkweather." He said, smiling broadly and extending a hand in greeting. "Please, Agent Doggett, let me buy you and your partner a drink to make up for my mistake."  
  
"So, Dr. Grant, tell me..." Starkweather purred, "are brontoburgers gamey?"  
  
"You'll have to forgive her, Dr. Grant." Doggett growled, "she hasn't had her nap yet."  
  
"J.D. and Coke please." She told the bartender, completely ignoring Doggett's comment.  
  
"Agents..." Dr. Grant began cautiously, "exactly what have they told you about the island?"  
  
"That depends..." Starkweather answered, grinning sardonically, "how much of the movie is fiction?"  
  
Meanwhile....  
  
"Langly," Scully said sternly. "What goes on with the Starkweathers' private life is exactly that, private. You can not hack into their personal affairs as if it is a computer file."  
  
"In other words, Langly," Mulder told him. "Butt out."  
  
Langly frowned. Already he wasn't having as much fun on this trip as he thought he would. With a sigh, he hefted his own heavy duffel bag onto his back. Turning around to join Mulder and Scully, who were already lugging their heavy baggage toward the hotel bag, Langly unintentionally wapped someone with the duffel bag. The man grunted and fell flat on his ass on the shiny marble floor.  
  
"Oh sh*t!" Langly exclaimed.  
  
Mulder and Scully paused when they heard Langly swear. "Maybe," Mulder said thoughtfully, "if we ignore it, it'll go away."  
  
"Fat chance," Scully scoffed.  
  
"Hey, Mulder? Scully? Can ya c'mere and help me for a sec?" Langly was crouched down by a man dressed from head to toe in black. His face was hidden by his big hand, which was trying to pinch off the blood flow from his nostrils, but Mulder and Scully could clearly see the shock of wild black hair sticking up everywhere. "God, I'm sorry, dude, I didn't see you there."  
  
"Obvisiously," the man said, very irritatedly.  
  
Mulder and Scully returned to "the scene of the crime", so to speak. Scully slung off her luggage and crouched down by the bleeding man. "Sir, are you alright?"  
  
"Other than being hit in the face by a large laundry bag and bleeding to death through my nose, not to mention falling on my rear in front of several monied individuals who will be tittle-tattling it over to their other immensely weathly friends during tea and crumpets, I am perfectly fine." He took his hand down and Scully found herself to be looking into very intelligent, very fey and very brown eyes.  
  
Mulder put the luggage and Tummy's carrier down as well so he could pick up the man's glasses. Langly just hovered over them and felt terrible. Scully said to him, "Sit still, I'm a doctor," as she started to examine his face  
  
"How comforting."  
  
"I AM really, really sorry," Langly said again.  
  
The man sighed mightily again as Scully took a tissue out of her pocket and gently, carefully tore it into two strips. "I know you are and trust me, sir, if this is the worst that happens to me on this god-forsaken trip I'm on, I will thank every known Deity in the universe for sparing my skinny ass just one more time."  
  
A bell went off in Mulder's head. "Just... where are you going?"  
  
The strange man took on of the Kleenex strips Scully handed him, balled it up and shoved it up one bleeding nostril. "I really can't say... besides you probably wouldn't believe me. **I** wouldn't believe me."  
  
"Oh, I'll believe just about anything," Mulder told him.  
  
"The point that... my partner," Scully's mouth twitched "is trying to make sir, is that we might be all heading towards the same destination. Does the name, La Isla Luna Blanca, mean anything to you?"  
  
The man pushed the other Kleenex wad up his nose. "Well, well, well," he said. "Judging by your attire and the fact that you told me you were a doctor, is it safe for me to assume that I have just been administered to by either Agent Dana Scully or Agent Jerilyn Starkweather?"  
  
"You would be safe to assume that," Scully said as she helped the man up. "I'm Agent Scully."  
  
"Ah... well...." the man brushed himself off. "Then one of you gentlemen must be the much vaulted current Deputy Mayor of our treasured capital city..." He took one look at Langly and turned to Mulder. "Mr. Mulder, it is a pleasure to meet you. I've heard of your work back in your days at the FBI. Interesting...."  
  
"This is our friend and computer specialist, Ringo Langly," Scully continued with the introductions.  
  
"I've logged onto your site, "The Lone Gunmen." It's good. It's really good. I liked it."  
  
Langly beamed with pride.  
  
"I'm sorry," Mulder said. "We didn't catch your name."  
  
"Sorry," the funny little man smiled broa"Ian Malcolm," Scully said. "Like the movie?"  
  
"And the novel," Malcolm seem to have recovered his good spirits. "Shame that I haven't seen any royalties from either, but, oh well. It seems destined that I'm not meant to live long anyway, not if I keep getting invited and keep accepting these kind of party invitations."  
  
"Look, Scully, an optimist," Mulder deadpanned.  
  
"Excuse me," a huffy, feminine voice piped up behind them.  
  
"Oh dear God," Malcolm muttered as Mulder and Scully turned around to see the haughty woman in the Christian Dior suit that Mulder insulted standing behind them. Mulder felt his stomach plummet straight down into the floor.  
  
"I couldn't help overhearing your names... Deputy Mayor," she said icily. "I'm Andrea Nowark." She stood there as if she was expecting applause.  
  
The agent, the deputy mayor, the mathmatician and the hacker all exchanged blank looks. "Good for you?" Mulder finally said, at a loss.  
  
"I'm the ARCHITECT," she fumed. "I was one of the main designers of the white tigers exhibit at the Mirage Hotel in Las Vegas? I was invited to be a part of a critique panel traveling to a tropical island to study and review a new zoologically-themed resort?"  
  
"Ah," Scully said. "Ms. Nowark. Hello, nice to meet you." She held out her small hand. Andrea took it with a grim smile, gripped it weakly, as if Scully was holding out a rattlesnake or a slimy leech and let go rapidly. Scully wanted to slug her. "I'm Agent Scully. This is-"  
  
"I heard you all introducing yourself earlier," she snapped. "Where is the rest of the party meeting?"  
  
"In the bar." Scully REALLY wanted to slug her now.  
  
"Thank you, dearie," Andrea said patronizingly as she stalked off.  
  
"Nice to meet you," Mulder's voice dripped with sarcasm.  
  
"So glad you showered," she hissed back at him as she rudely brushed by him.  
  
Together, Mulder and Scully looked at eachother, eyebrows raised. Without realizing it, they both turned around, crossed their arms and glared at Andrea Nowark's back. "B*tch," they both said under their breath at the same time.  
  
"Wow, you two really are melding into one person," Langly said.  
  
Malcolm smiled. "Come come," he said. "There's a fully stocked bar waiting and if I am to believe what I was told about the dear Agent Starkweather... I want front row seats for the catfight's that's going to errupt when those two go head-to-head."  
  
Mulder and Scully looked at eachother in horror. "Oh sh*t!" Mulder groaned, picking up the luggage, leaving Scully to carry Tummy's carrier, crying out "Mulder! Wait!!"  
  
Malcolm and Langly stood there silently watching "Moose and Squirrel" run off after Andrea. Langly finally said "You get used to 'em after a while. Weirdness runs in the family. Can I buy ya a drink seeing that I smashed your schnozz and all?"  
  
"That, my friend, has been the best suggestion anyone has made all morning..."  
  
The man smiled broadly. "I'm Ian Malcolm. I do math."  
  
"How much of that T.V. series of *your* job is fiction?" Dr. Grant countered with an evil grin of his own.  
  
"You watch that crap?" Starkweather blurted out. "Don't you have...bones to look at?"  
  
"It's not a bad show." Grant defended.  
  
"Oh puhleease..." Starkweather scoffed after gulping down her second J.D. and Coke, "Cigarette Smoking Pope?! Where the f*ck do they get ideas like that? And Nanobots...come ON! And Agent Reyes really isn't as flakey as they make her out to be."  
  
"It's an escapism." Grant answered bashfully.  
  
"Great..." Doggett grumbled, taking a long gulp of his Coors, "My job is someone else's escape..."  
  
Grant said, fiddling with his Martini. "If it makes you feel any better...so is mine."  
  
"No, of course not." Doggett glowered, finishing off the long-necked glass of beer.  
  
The fall had been good to Ana Sedai and her son, Peter.  
  
She had found damning evidence that Mr. Sedai was being less than faithful, and promptly persuaded associates from her half-brother's old lawfirm to hand him a divorce agreement. He pleaded no contest, and she was currently having a new house built to replace the home that was blown up that past summer. For the time being, she and her son were getting along as well as possible in a small two-bedroom apartment in a D.C. Suburb. She was going to night school and working a diner in the evenings as a waitress eventually planning to get into law school.  
  
Life was busy, but that was how she liked it. But as content as she was, something couldn't let her relax. They never *had* found Justin...  
  
She shook her head at the thought, and unlocked her apartment. "Peter!" she called out, "You ready to go to your Dad's?"  
  
"Do I have to Mom?" Peter whined, coming out of the room.  
  
"Yeah, you've got to, hon. I've gotta study tonight and your dad promised to make sure you were taken care of while I made sure I passed my first exam."  
  
**********************************************************************  
  
Meanwhile, Harry Sedai climbed into his car, and felt a sharp needle injected into his neck, and collapsed on the horn. As quickly as he could manage, his attacker shifted him over to the passenger side and took over.  
  
The driver made his way to his half-sister's apartment. He honked the horn, and waited for his nephew to get out. Sure enough, the boy emerged from the apartment. Peter's gray eyes opened wide when he saw who was driving the car.  
  
"Uncle Justin?"  
  
Meanwhile....  
  
Monica Reyes' Apartment  
  
Washington DC  
  
Special Agent Monica Reyes sat on her couch, chin on knees, arms wrapped around her legs. A wet Kleenex was clutched in her hands. Her cheeks were mottled pink from excessive crying and her dark, doe-eyes still produced more tears. She sniffled. Then coughed.  
  
The phone rang. She blew her nose quickly, dried her eyes, paused the VCR right at the part where the Prince of the Forest tells young Bambi that his mother bit the big one and grabbed the phone by the fourth ring. "Hello?" She coughed.  
  
"Agent Reyes," a surly voice said. "It's AD Skinner."  
  
"Hello sir," Reyes said, feeling like the schoolgirl caught playing hooky when in all reality, she did have a valid excuse. She had caught a hellish cold and had already called Skinner to let him know that she would not be in the office today.  
  
"Sorry to bother you when you're not feeling well, but I forgot to ask you if you had a chance to look through the information about Unigen International."  
  
"Um... yes I did," she said, leaning over to grab the thick file off the coffee table. "Unigen International. Started life as International Genetics in 1985, but was bought out by Universal Genetics in 1990, which is how it became Unigen. Unfortunately, the merger didn't solve the financial troubles International Genetics had when Universal bought them out. In fact, the financial woes increased."  
  
"Why?" The man of few words asked.  
  
"Well... I'll be emailing you a more detailed report, but in a nutshell sir, according to the reports that are public domain, they threw a lot of money, and when I say a lot, I'm talking millions, down the drain for frivolous genetic projects. While other geneticists were researching ways to mutate the genes believed to cause birth defects or bioengineer organs for transplants instead of having to wait for someone else to die.... this people... this company, like so many others, unfortunately, were in it for the buck. The failed projects sound like an X-File on acid. They tried to create cats without claws. Catcuses without thorns. Honeybees without stingers. A hybrid cocoa-phen-fen plant."  
  
"A WHAT???"  
  
"They tried to make an hybrid of a cocoa plant, which is used to make chocolate, with a now proven deadly dieting drug."  
  
"Oh my God."  
  
Reyes could envision him taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes, his favorite "I-can-not-believe-this-sh*t-is-real" mannerism. "This company was the joke of the scientific world. Even other genetic engineering companies thought they were a disgrace to their fields. Which was why no one held any faith in their company, which is why their stock was dirt cheap."  
  
"Was," Skinner said. "I tuned into CNN last night. The Nasdaq closed with Unigen now at seventy-something odd dollars. What gives, Agent Reyes? How could this company, which seemed to be losing it's ass, now be the darling of the stock market? And this same said company, who was in danger of losing the same said ass, now has this technology to create animals that our beyond our imagination-"  
  
"Dinosaurs sir?"  
  
"You don't believe that do you?"  
  
"Well..." Reyes hestitated. "Well... sir, if they have dinosaur DNA, anything's possible."  
  
"Agent Scully believes that what was done instead was to manipulate the genes of already existing animals to resemble prehistoric ones."  
  
"Which is also possible. Unfortunately, we're not going to know until Agents Scully and Starkweather come back."  
  
"And Doggett and Mulder."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Mr. Starkweather was supposed to go along as legal aid and as a guest but for whatever reason, he bowed out at the last minute. Doggett was asked to go in his place. You didn't know?"  
  
Reyes was silent for a minute. "No," she said finally, trying hard not to feel hurt that she was left out of the loop. "I didn't."  
  
"It was REALLY last minute, Reyes."  
  
"I know, I understand," Reyes tried to force joviality into her voice. "It's just a shock that I'm going to be handling the X-Files office by myself for a few days, that's all." She coughed.  
  
"Get some rest, Agent Reyes," Skinner said gently as he could. "I'll handle the X-Files for this weekend."  
  
"I'll fax you my preliminary report."  
  
"I'll watch for it."  
  
Reyes hung up the phone and tried not to feel unwanted, left out. She switched the movie back on and snuggled under a blanket.  
  
Meanwhile...  
  
Back at the bar  
  
Doggett, Grant and Starkweather were getting along famously when Andrea Nowark breezed into the bar. The bartender said to her politely, "What would you like, ma'am?"  
  
Eyeing Starkweather, she snapped "Cosmopolitan." Arching her perfectly waxed eyebrow, she asked Starkweather, "Are you even old enough to be in this establishment?"  
  
Her own eyebrows rising, Starkweather whipped out her FBI badge and held it up to her. "What is your goddamned problem, lady?" Starkweather snapped.  
  
"Starkweather," Doggett murmurred, putting his hand on her shoulder. "Cool it."  
  
"That's right, little girl," Andrea purred. "Listen to your father."  
  
Doggett bolted out of his seat, "Now, listen here, you snot-nosed, uptight, pretentious little b*tch!" he snapped, walking toward her.  
  
Starkweather threw herself at Doggett, trying to hold him back, "Come on Doggett, she's not worth it!" Starkweather said vainly to him. "She's got more lawyers than good looks."  
  
Grant only stared wide eyed as Doggett and Andrea continued to trade very loud insults, with Starkweather trying to push Doggett back with her tiny frame, tiny compared to his six-foot-two body.  
  
Mulder and Scully burst onto the scene. "Well, this is unexpected," Mulder deadpanned.  
  
"You're nothing more than an ignorant, redneck scraped up from the very bowels of deep-fat fried Southern hell. What IDIOT allowed you to crawl up from the swamps and let you into Quantico!!"  
  
"I am NOT gonna sit here and listen to you insult me or my partner just because you think you're hot sh*t because you took a coupla a ex-husbands to the dry-cleaners!"  
  
Starkweather turned her head just enough to see Mulder and Scully staring open-mouthed at a rabid John Doggett. "You guys... feel free to step in any time now!" Starkweather yelled at them.  
  
Mulder and Scully snapped out their torpid shock and sprang into action. Mulder locked Doggett's arms behind his back and helped Starkweather pull him away from Andrea. Scully meanwhile, got in Andrea's face. "Don't make me arrest you for disorderly conduct before we even leave for the trip."  
  
"LEAVE???" Starkweather said. "Whattya mean LEAVE? That b*tch is not going with us????"  
  
"Unfortunately, she is," Scully said tiredly. "This is Andrea Nowark."  
  
"That's right," Andrea straightened her hair. "So you little inbred feds better play nice," she breathed into Scully's ear. "I don't care WHO you're f*cking, don't you think you can threaten me, you slutty little tramp." She gave Scully a little, petty, mean push.  
  
Scully slapped her across the face. Starkweather leapt away from Doggett to pull Scully off of Andrea. "Jesus Christ, Scully!!!" Starkweather said as she dragged her off.  
  
Malcolm and Langly just entered the bar. "Oh, hello, Grant, nice to see you again," he said affably as he surveyed the bar, looking first at Mulder, restraining Doggett and then at Starkweather pulling Scully off of Nowark. "Did I miss much?" Langly just stood there with his mouth hanging open in disbelief.  
  
"Oh no, not really," Grant said faintly. "This is just the warm-up. We haven't even gotten to the scary parts yet."  
  
"Goody," Malcolm said calmly. To the bartender he asked "Could I have a scotch on the rocks? Thanks... thank you."  
  
"JUST WAIT UNTIL MY LAWYERS GET THROUGH WITH YOU MISSY!!!" Nowark was still screaming at Scully.  
  
"My husband IS a lawyer, you f*cking b*tch," Starkweather screamed back at her. "Just wait to see what he does to YOUR ass when we send you up on charges for assaulting a federal agent!!!"  
  
"I DIDN'T ASSAULT HER!!!" Nowark screamed.  
  
"Prove it," Mulder shouted back to her. "You're in a room full of a lot of people who really don't like you right now."  
  
Just then, a roly-poly man with auburn hair and a beard to match walked into the bar. "Hello!" he said cheerfully. "I'm Dr. Geoff Wick, I'm looking for a group of people who are heading off to a place called La Isla Luna Blanca...." his happy voice trailed off when the goings-on in the room finally sunk into him. "Oh dear..."  
  
Grant and Malcolm looked at each other. They raised their glasses.  
  
"Cheers," Grant said.  
  
Just then, a roly-poly man with auburn hair and a beard to match walked into the bar. "Hello!" he said cheerfully. "I'm Dr. Geoff Wick, I'm looking for a group of people who are heading off to a place called La Isla Luna Blanca...." his happy voice trailed off when the goings-on in the room finally sunk into him. "Oh dear..."  
  
Grant and Malcolm looked at each other. They raised their glasses.  
  
"Cheers," Grant said.  
  
Right behind Dr. Wick, came Schabasser. "Well, is everyone getting to know eachother?" he boomed jovially.  
  
"Naw, I think we need name tags," Starkweather snapped as she let Scully go. Under her breath to Nowark she hissed "Watch your step sister otherwise Dino's gonna have good eats when we get to the island." Andrea Nowark's tongue, for the moment anyway, had been stilled and she suddenly became very interested in digging into her purse for her makeup compact. She examined the red handprint on her cheek and frowned.  
  
"Well, we've got a long trip ahead of us, so let's get going!" Schabasser just sounded way too happy. He patted a very shaken Dr. Wick on the back and said, "Come on everybody, a great adventure awaits us all!" Grant and Malcolm looked at eachother and rolled their eyes and belted what was left of their drinks.  
  
Mulder eased his grip on Doggett as Scully and Starkweather came peaceably back to them. "I wonder," Mulder said, "if he put himself through law school by being the tour-guide at Disneyland's "It's a Small World After All" ride?"  
  
Starkweather shook her head. "Doubtful. The employee suicide rate for that job is way too high. Schabasser enjoys life."  
  
Andrea Nowark picked up her bags and stalked past them. Everyone on the X- Files team glared at her. "If we focus all of our collective energy," Starkweather grumbled. "Maybe she'll spontaneously combust."  
  
"You've been talkin' to Reyes too much," Doggett grumbled.  
  
Scully, naturally, was mortified at her own conduct. "I can't believe I acted so disgracefully." She truly looked like she was ready to melt into the carpet.  
  
"Whatta she say that pissed you off so bad?" Langly finally found his voice. "I mean, we've all seen you mad before, but... this looked personal."  
  
"Yeah, Scully, what happened?" Mulder said. "And you too, Doggett. We were more worried about the Hurricane exploding. It's out of character for you guys."  
  
"I am perfectly capable of controlling my temper," Starkweather said primly to which Mulder snorted, Doggett rolled his eyes and Langly coughed out the word "Bullsh*t."  
  
"Well," Doggett felt himself getting het up again. "She prances in like she owes the damn place and starts running her mouth on Stawk -weddah and me... uh-uh, I wasn't gonna stand for that BS."  
  
"I'm so happy," Starkweather proclaimed. "That chivalry isn't dead."  
  
"So what gives Scully?" Langly said.  
  
Scully only folded her lips. "She just said something that wasn't very nice," she answered in that freezing tone of voice which broadcasted that she wasn't going to go into further detail. Mulder had the sinking feeling somehow it had to do with him but wisely didn't press her for the truth right then and there.  
  
"Well..." Alan Grant stood up and grabbed his bag. "I don't think the lady won any points with anyone today, so she'll probably keep to herself. Shall we?" he tilted his head towards the door.  
  
"Can I have one more drink?" Malcolm begged.  
  
"Let's go," Grant told Malcolm while Langly, as promised, paid for Malcolm's Scotch. Grant, as promised, settled up for Starkweather, Doggett and himself. Mulder, Scully, Starkweather and Doggett, all feeling like complete horse's asses by their actions in the bar, each gave the petrified bartender ten dollars.  
  
"Sorry," mumbled Mulder.  
  
"Sorry," blushed Scully.  
  
"Sorry," muttered Doggett.  
  
"We will never come back here," promised Starkweather.  
  
When the bar was empty again, the bartender poured a shot of Sambucca straight up and slammed it. With the liquid courage going through his veins, he shrugged. Not everyday he got to see a three-way cat fight and still get a forty-dollar tip out of it.  
  
Five hours later...  
  
Flight 12701  
  
En Route from Washington DC to Mexico City, Mexico  
  
The agents (and Mulder), used to third-class travel, were surprised at the luxury of the private jet Unigen provided for the panel. "Whoa," Starkweather had said when she was inside as her eyes bugged out at the sight of the plush carpetting and cherry wood panelling. Doggett, remembering his conversation with Starkweather the night before about how the company went from almost bankrupt to blue chip practically overnight, had frowned. He looked at Mulder and Scully and could tell they were having the same thoughts he was. So was Starkweather.  
  
Schabasser had laughed heartily at Starkweather. "Enjoy it while we have it, Dr. Starkweather. Once we get to Mexico City, we'll have to jump into a very squashed puddle-jumper to head to the island of Cozumel, then helicopter it over to Luna Blanca."  
  
Andrea Nowark looked like she was going to faint when she heard the words "puddle-jumper."  
  
Fortunately, Grant's prediction came true, well almost. She sat away from the rest of the panel but Schabasser sat by her and had her giggling coyly during most of the flight.  
  
Predictably, Grant and Malcolm sat by each other, while Mulder and Scully bickered over who got the window seat, Starkweather and Doggett paired off and Langly was stuck with Dr. Wicks. However, for Langly, it wasn't as bad as he feared for the good doctor was an avid "Lords Of the Ring" fan, so they discussed Tolkien at great lengths. But no one, except Schabasser and Andrea, really stayed in their seats very much. Dr. Wicks eventually fell asleep so Langly joined Doggett, who was deserted by Starkweather to go talk to Grant. Malcolm had gone over to chat with Scully when Mulder left to have a word with Grant and Starkweather.  
  
"So, tell us about Isla Nublar," Starkweather said seriously to Grant. "In all honesty, how close to the truth did the novel and the movies get?"  
  
Grant sighed, "It's hard to say. The book got somethings accurate, such as the island being destoryed by military at the end. But the movie got somethings right too. But both had somethings that were terribly inaccurate."  
  
"Such as," Starkweather pushed on.  
  
"Such as," Grant smiled wryly. "In the novel, it implies that Malcolm died from his injuries. As we can see, that is obviously not the case. In the movie... it did not do justice to the speed and ferocity of the raptors."  
  
"Raptors," Mulder felt his mouth go dry.  
  
"Dr. Grant," Starkweather said. "What about the theory of getting the dinosaur DNA from prehistoric insects trapped in amber? Is that true?"  
  
"Yes, it's quite true, however to be honest," Grant said. "I have no idea where Unigen could have gotten their dinosaur DNA. The goverment comfiscated all the amber from the first Jurassic Park experiments and amber, from my understanding, is terribly difficult to aquire now, because of the first Jurassic Park experiments."  
  
Mulder seemed to be mulling something over in his brain but was keeping it to himself for the moment. He did ask a question though, a question that seemed non-related to Starkweather: "What is your theory on why the original dinosaurs became exscinct? (sp???)"  
  
Grant drummed his fingers against his chin. "There are several. Mostly I believe a cataclysmic event occurred to the planet which altered the habitat of the dinosaurs so greatly that it was impossible for them to continue to survive. There are other theories out there that undermind this theory, but I adhere to one that makes the most sense and that makes the most sense to me."  
  
"Cataclymic how?" Mulder asked. "A large meteor maybe?"  
  
Starkweather frowned. "Like the movies? "Deep Impact" or "Armaggedeon"?  
  
"Perhaps, but until we can invent a time machine and go back to witness the event ourselves," Grant shook his head. "All we can do is spectualate."  
  
"Mulder, I don't get what you're trying to get at," Starkweather told him bluntly.  
  
"I'll tell you later," Mulder promised. "Dr. Grant, you realize the danger of what may be occuring on that island. You've lived through it twice already. Why go back?"  
  
Grant smiled. "Why do you still chase after extraterristials, Mr. Mulder?"  
  
Mulder smiled. "Touche," he acknowledged him and got up to return to Scully.  
  
Grant asked Starkweather, "Is he always this spooky?"  
  
"Yep, pretty much."  
  
"And he's your half-brother, correct?"  
  
"Uh-huh."  
  
Grant teased her, "Lucky you."  
  
"Don't I know it."  
  
Later on that night....  
  
La Isla Luna Blanca  
  
8:15 PM  
  
The winds had picked up, making the helicopter trip from Cozumel to Luna Blanca dubious at first. After an hour's wait, it looked like the weather would cooperate, "But it looks like we've got some bad weather in the horizon," the air traffic controller warned them. "If you're going to go, you better go now."  
  
At first, the original plan was to split the Forum into two parties and shuttle the parties back and forth, but with the ominious warning of foul tropical weather, Schabasser damned the cost and rented a second chopper, at Unigen's expense, of course. The agents (and Mulder) tried to stay together so they could perhaps talk privately about their personal opinions and findings thus far. However, Schabasser, still playing Too-Happy-Tour- Guide thwarted their plans by splitting them up alphabetically, so it ended up that Doggett, Grant, Langly, Malcolm and Mulder (and Tummy) were placed in the first heliocopter while Andrea Nowark, Schabasser, Scully, Starkweather and Wick in the other.  
  
However, it became apparant that there wouldn't have been much talking during the trip anyway, the ride was a nightmare, extremely nerve-wrecking. You could hear the great propellers of the giant machine fighting against the winds that promised more storms to come. Doggett was quietly fighting memories from his time in Lebanon, Grant had turned a pale shade of green, Langly gripped the armrests the entire time, Mulder was trying to sleep through it and failed miserably, Schabasser tried to flirt with Scully, who ignored him while fiddling with her gold cross, Starkweather crossed her arms and closed her eyes, Nowark threw up in an airsickness bag and Wick sweated.  
  
Finally, land appeared and the sight was wonderful. It was a forgotten leafy oasis in a desert of ocean. The helicopters flew fearlessly through the mountains yawning gorges and the first helicopter touched down in a perfect, if slightly on the way-too-thrilling side, landing. The pilot told them. "Hurry and get out so the other chopper could land!" The men gathered their things and rushed out of the heliocopter as fast as they could. As soon as they were out of the way, it rose back up in the air at an angle as the the other heliocopter landed.  
  
Schabasser crowed to everyone. "Well, we're here!"  
  
Malcolm muttered "Goody, joy."  
  
Despite the crude lampposts along the path from the heliocopter pad to the lodge, it was fairly dark as the weary group trudged toward a looming building so no one could see what Schabasser was making apologies for. "We're still under construction so it looks rather shoddy right now, but you'll have to come back once we're fully up and operational! It will be magnificent!"  
  
"Does the lodging provide hot running water?" Scully asked.  
  
"Erm... yes."  
  
"Then that's magnificent enough to me right now."  
  
"What are we waiting for?" Grant said nervously. The darkness was giving him the heebie-jeebies, as was Malcolm.  
  
"Yes... um... I'd feel better if we were inside... a bomb shelter.... in Connecicut," Malcolm told Schabasser.  
  
Just then, three SUVs zoomed up. A leapt out, "Hi!" she said. "I'm Christie Carter, I'm one of the genetics researchers out here. I'm also the Unofficial Master of Ceremonies until they finish up the hotel and hire a proper Promotions Director. Welcome to Jurassice Park!" If she was expecting cheers and applause, she was sorely disappointed. "We have one SUVs for your luggage and another for you to ride in, it's a bit of a trek from here to the hotel." As the exhausted people piled into the vehicles, this time sitting with who THEY wanted to sit with as opposed to who Schabasser saw fit, Christie droned on merrily. "It's a pretty spectacular sight, the drive from here to the hotel, but unfortunately, it's late so we'll just speed you all off to the hotel..."  
  
"Blah, blah, blah," Starkweather mumbled as she was squished inbetween Doggett and Dr. Grant. Malcolm was sitting up in the passenger seat, Doggett, Starkweather and Grant took up the middle seats and Mulder, Scully and Langly (and Tummy) were in the back.  
  
Long ride translated into a thirty minute trip. No one really said much, since Christie was their driver and she prattled on how excited she was to actually have visitors, how she hoped everyone would enjoy their stay, that tomorrow afternoon, they were planning on a huge brunch around eleven- thirty and then, after everyone had a chance to relax and enjoy the hotel's facilities, they could go on a tour of the park. Malcolm nibbled on his nails the entire time. Grant looked out the window, as if expecting to see something horrific pounce upon the SUV out of the pitch blackness. Starkweather fell asleep on Doggett's shoulder. Mulder and Scully discreetly held hands and Langly was fussing with something or other on his Palm Pilot.  
  
The SUV lurched to a halt. Porters out of nowhere magically materialized and started to unload the luggage vehicle. Doggett nudged Starkweather "We're here."  
  
"Doggett, I was having this lovely dream. And you were in it, and Mulder and Scully, and Toto too, but then I realized that there's no place like home." She opened an eyelid. "Oh damn."  
  
"Sorry to disappoint you Doc," Doggett said as a porter slid open the sidedoor. As everyone was getting out, Doggett looked at Grant and said "You okay, Grant? You look kinda peaked."  
  
Grant smiled thinly. "Just experiencing deja vu."  
  
Doggett muttered to Grant "Trust me sir, if we find anything wrong with this island, we're gonna burn it to the ground, that's for damn sure." He looked over at Mulder and Scully. Mulder had taken Tummy out of her carrier, put her on a leash and was letting her "take care of business. He was talking insistantly to Scully about something. Whatever it was, Scully wasn't agreeing with him. Typical.  
  
Starkweather took Malcolm aside and said to him, "I want to know everything about Isla Nublar. Tonight."  
  
Malcolm sighed. "It's a nightmare beyond describing, young agent. I doubt very much you'd believe me."  
  
"Sir, it's my job to explore the unbelievable."  
  
Like exhausted cattle, the Forum were herded into the hotel. The building was obvisiously, like Schabasser had warned them, under construction, but it seemed like all it needed now was the cosmetic touches. Paintings, tapestries, chandliers, the little niceties that converted a nice hotel into a sinfully luxorious one. There was thick carpets, beautiful blooming plants everywhere and everything seemed to be made out of either marble or mahogany. Andrea Nowark, looking around, seemed to be approving everything thus far.  
  
"And there's an indoor swimming pool, a work-out room, a laundry room and a bar that's fully operational," Christie went on. "Unfortunately, many of the hotel's other ammenities are not completed yet and normally..." she eyed Mulder's puppy warily, as if she expected her to pee on the carpet, "we don't allow pets, but in this case, we can make an exception." She then took a manilla envelope out of her giant haversack and shook it. "I'll be passing out the keys to your rooms right now. I hope everything is to your liking. Again, many of the rooms are still under construction and what's not is being used as dormitory space for the many people we have on staff here year round, so this is all we have available. I hope that's okay. We've already put your bags in your rooms" she pulled out a key and said "Andrea Nowark," she handed to her. "I know you requested a private, spacious room, but the only private room we have to offer is not very big," Christie said apologetically.  
  
"As long as I don't have to share," Andrea sniffed, glowering at the agents (and Mulder and Langly) Tummy growled for the very first time in her life. She glared at the puppy. Tummy whimpered.  
  
"Dr. Wick and Mr. Langly and Mr. Schabasser, we put you in the master suite, it's big enough to fit three people, I hope that's okay." She held out three keys.  
  
"Par - tay," Langly grumbled, looking Schabasser over. He didn't like him very much either.  
  
"Mr. Grant and Mr. Malcolm?" Christie held out two keys. "There are just standard hotel rooms. Two queen size beds. Chest of drawers. Closet, bathroom, TV. Nothing special, really."  
  
Grant retrieved the keys from her with a "Thank you, that'll be just fine," and returned to stand by Malcolm.  
  
"Mr. and Mrs. Mulder?" Christie held out more two keys.  
  
Doggett, Starkweather and Langly snorted. "Since when???" Starkweather purred as a blushing Scully came to get their keys. Mulder suddenly became very preoccupied with Tummy.  
  
"It's just easier," Scully whispered.  
  
"And that leaves Mr. and Mrs. Starkweather," Christie looked straight at Doggett and Starkweather.  
  
Now it was Mulder and Scully's turn to snicker as Doggett turned to glare at Starkweather who moaned "Oh crap, I forgot to change the reservations." She tried to change her feline eyes into puppy-dog eyes, but failed utterly. Doggett looked murderous.  
  
"Is there a problem?" Christie asked.  
  
"I'm not Mr. Starkweather," Doggett said bluntly. "He was unable to come so I took his place. I'm Special Agent John Doggett, Agent Starkweather's partner."  
  
"Oh dear..." Christie looked distressed. "We really don't have any spare rooms... I suppose we COULD move you in with Miss Nowar-"  
  
"NO," Starkweather and Andrea said at the same time.  
  
"We're adults," Starkweather said quickly. "We'll handle it."  
  
"Well, okay then!" Christie said, sounding very much like the Spartan cheerleader from Saturday Night Live. "The bar is open, if you are interested in a c*cktail. Other than that, enjoy your stay and if you need anything, don't hestitate to ring the front desk! To get to your rooms, just hop into the elevator and hit "One", I believe everyone is one the first floor. Or I suppose you could take the stairs. Up to you. Good night!" She pranced off.  
  
"Please," Starkweather begged. "Can I use her as target practise?"  
  
Malcolm saddled up to Starkweather, "Don't forget about our date tonight," he said to her with a wink.  
  
Starkweather's lip lifted in half-a-smile. "Mr. Malcolm, are you flirting with me?"  
  
"Are you really married?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Then indeed not," with that, he walked towards the elevator.  
  
Doggett said to Grant "Why don'cha meet me in the bar? I wanna hear more 'bout what happened the first time around. Without little ears listenin'," meaning Schabasser.  
  
"Delighted too."  
  
Meanwhile, Scully scooped up the puppy and said "Mulder, I'm not going to wait for the elevator, I'm just going to take the stairs."  
  
"Okay," Mulder walked besides her. "Sounds like everyone's going to the bar after they get settled. Looks like Starkweather and Doggett are getting ready to interogate Malcolm and Grant. Now if I could be a fly on the wal- argghh, what the hell?"  
  
Scully was halfway up the curling master staircase. "What is it Mulder?"  
  
Mulder was wiping a strange purplish pollen off his arm. "I brushed against this plant and I got crap all over me," he brushed again at the dust. "It'll just pollen, Scully, it'll come off when I shower."  
  
Scully shrugged and said "Okay then. I'm just going to wash my face and change my clothes. I'll meet you down at the bar then." She started back up the stairs again.  
  
Mulder was two steps behind her, still trying to wipe off the strange residue from the plant off his arm.  
  
Later on that night....  
  
Starkweather, changed into a black tank top and a short khakis skirt, padded down the stairs. When she reached the bottom stairs, she noted the unusual leafy greenery blooming from the flowerpots built into the banisters. As she stepped closer, she noted a filmy, purplish residue, similiar to the body-glitter young girls have taken to wearing lately. Curiously, Starkweather reached out a finger to touch the plant, but before she could, the elevator doors opened. Ian Malcolm, dressed in black, as usual, stepped out. Upon seeing Starkweather, with her long hair hanging down her back like a heavy veil, he did a very stagy double-take, clasping his heart as he staggered towards her. Starkweather rolled her eyes, stepped away from the plant without touching it and stepped to meet Malcolm.  
  
"Mrs. Starkweather," Malcolm said, taking her hand and kissing it like a gentleman. "It is a sin for women like you to keep such gorgeous hair up in a bun the way you do."  
  
Actually, she was already regretting her decision to take her hair down. Despite the air conditioners working overtime, the humidity of the island still managed to sneak into the hotel. Starkweather felt her hair sticking to the back of her neck.  
  
Malcolm offered his arm. Starkweather, with an arched eyebrow, accepted it gingerly and together they disappeared into the bar just as Scully was coming down the stairs. She too, changed out of her travel-stained clothes into a thin blue t-shirt and khakis slacks. As she entered the bar, she noted Starkweather and Malcolm, sitting alone at a table in a darkened corner. All she could see was the back of Malcolm's neck. But Starkweahter had her face arranged in a very studious manner. She was also, Scully perceived, taking notes on a c*cktail napkin. Scully frowned as she sat down at the bar. When the bartender asked her what the lady would preferred, she said "White wine," without really paying attention to him.  
  
"Agent Scully?" A gravelly Southern born, New York burned voice rumbled behind her. Scully turned and smiled at Doggett in greeting. "This seat taken?"  
  
"No, John, please, sit down. I'm still waiting for Mulder."  
  
"And wonderin' what ace our little dynamo's got up her sleeve," Doggett grinned. "Don't worry Scully, she's a big girl. I'm meetin' with Grant tonight. He should be down her in a little bit."  
  
"I wonder if Starkweather figured out what Mulder's theory is..." Scully muttered.  
  
"Oh no," Doggett couldn't help saying. "What'd Mul-dah cook up now... wait a minute... do I want to know???"  
  
"It is pretty far-fetched."  
  
"Dana, we're sitting on an island were there may or may not be real dinosaurs runnin' 'round. Define YOUR version of what 'far-fetched' may or may not be."  
  
While Doggett and Scully were talking, the bartender took this chance to sprinkle a whitish powder that dissolved immediately upon contact with the alcohol. He placed the wine glass in front of Scully who took a ladylike sip. The same bartender then took two more drugged drinks, a Scotch on the rocks and a Jack and Coke over to Malcolm and Starkweather. So intent was there conversation, they never noticed the drinks. "So..." Starkweather looked at the scribblings on her napkin. "That's the chaos theory."  
  
"In a nutshell, yes."  
  
"And you based the thesis of your consulatation analysis with the original Jurassic Park creators on this theory," Starkweather scratched her head. "Fascinating. I'll have to read up on it some more Dr. Malcolm. We could apply this theory to just about every damn X-File we come across."  
  
Malcolm beamed in pleasure at Starkweather's off-handed compliment. "Yes... well... it's a very USEFULL theory... but not very USER-friendly. You grasped the concept right away," Malcolm folded his slender hands together and asked her "Where does your... um... IQ fall by chance??"  
  
"Afraid I'd outshine you at the Mensa meetings?"  
  
"I knew it! I thought I saw you somewhere before this!"  
  
"'Fraid not. I don't have the time," Starkweather purred. She so rarely came across anyone that was her intellectual equal. It was refreshing to her to be able to use big words and not get blank looks. Not to say that her friends and partners were idiots it just that...  
  
Except in the workplace or when confronted with someone she REALLY disliked, which, unfortunately was often, Jerilyn Bailey Starkweather had always tried to hide her massive intellect, her phenomenal musical abilities (she could play over seven instruments not to mention listening to a song once then being able to play it or sing it flawlessly) and her preternaturally good memory. In her field of work, she had to be smart. And she just couldn't tolerate common-sense impaired people. But still, she always felt like an outsider. There really wasn't anyone in her world she could talk to as an intellectual equal, except for Mulder. Unfortunately whenever she and Mulder spoke, it deterioated into childish bickering. Starkweather never really said anything about her awkward feelings with her husband or her friends because she didn't want to sound like a snob.  
  
She got so sick of being so smart sometimes. Especially when Mulder hinted that it may be due to alien testing and not good genetics. That pissed Starkweather off. There WAS no alien experimentation... she was just.... lucky.  
  
Speaking of Mulder...  
  
"Have you run this chaos theory past Mulder yet?"  
  
"Unfortunately no, I was hoping too... what's wrong??"  
  
"Scully," Starkweather said and was out of her chair like a shot.  
  
Meanwhile...  
  
Mulder still stood in the shower, the water coming out still freezing cold. He couldn't understand it; he felt fine before coming on the trip. Now, he felt very shaky, and slightly nauseos. His tongue felt much too big for his mouth.  
  
With trembling hands, he reached for his towel and wrapped it around his waist. Turning off the water, he stumbled into the bedroom.  
  
"Scully?" He said, voice shaking. He dressed slowly, feeling the way during his very first drunken binge. He was fourteen, he was hanging out with some high schools who were all downing Pabst Blue Ribbons...  
  
"Scully?" He tried to drink some more water, but waves of paranoia washed over him, remembering how someone sinister being drugged his water supply, causing him to go out of his mind and slug Skinner. The glass slipped from his hands, spilling on the carpet.  
  
Tummy scampered and hid under the bed.  
  
He started to ache all over. He knew he was being watched. I have to find her he thought desperately as he slid shoes on and left his room, calling out: "Scully?? Scully......"  
  
******************************************  
  
"Scully!!!!" Starkweather ran to Dogggett, who was cradling Scully in his arms. "Oh my God, Doggett, what happened??"  
  
"Happened??" Doggett looked perturbed. "She's DRUNK, that's what happened."  
  
Scully lifted her head up. Starkweather noticed she was wearing a sh*t- eating grin, very... well, UN-Scully-like. Her eyes, pupils huge, overcrowding the blue, lazily carressed first Doggett, then Malcolm as if they were old lovers. "Well boys..." she slurred her words very very badly. "Which one of ya's gonna light my fire?"  
  
"Simmer down, Dr. Malcolm," Starkweather warned Malcolm, who's normally morose face lit up in joy at the offer. "How much did she have???" Starkweather asked Doggett.  
  
"That's just it, she only had ONE."  
  
"ONE???" Starkweather looked down at Scully, who was now starting to coil around Doggett. Doggett definitely looked like he didn't know whether to be repulsed by her actions or to enjoy them. "Damn, girl, you ARE a lightwei-" She stopped and looked at the wineglass. "Ian, be a peach and get my drink," she mumbled to Malcolm.  
  
Malcolm, looking confused, retrieved both drinks. Doggett, as usual, decided to be a gentleman and was trying to gently rebuff Scully's very overt come-ons. "Now... Dana.... um..." Doggett was bright pink. Starkweather quietly stole Scully's wine glass. "Um... Dana... now... Mul - dah's not going to like this... so... um... Starkweather, help!!!" Starkweather was ignoring Doggett's problem as she crossed over to get the glasses from Malcolm.  
  
"Don't drink that!" she hissed at him just as Malcolm was raising his drink to his lips. Malcolm, noting that the lady meant business, put his glass down. He handed Starkweather her glass. She dumped the liquor out of her glass and handed the wineglass and the pintglass to him. "I don't have pockets, smuggle these to your room."  
  
Just as Malcolm successfully shoplifted the glasses out of the bar, Mulder staggered in.  
  
"Oh crap," Starkweather moaned.  
  
Mulder took one look at Scully curled up in Doggett's lap and went ballistic.  
  
"Mulder... it ain't what you thi-" Doggett tried to defend himself, but Mulder had already ripped Scully out of his arms and grabbed Doggett by the throat.  
  
"JESUS CHRIST MULDER!!!!" Starkweather screamed, running towards them, not sure who she needed to help first, Scully, laying giggling in a slovenly heap, or Doggett, whose eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his head.  
  
American Airways  
  
Flight 459  
  
En Route to Mexico City  
  
"What happened to Dad?" Peter finally managed to ask once they had boarded their connector flight to Mexico City.  
  
"Peter, I didn't hurt him, ok." Leo was almost-shouting. Keeping his volume in check when the stewardess eyed him nervously, he whispered hoarsely, "I'd never hurt anybody on purpose. I just had to make sure you came with me."  
  
"Where are we going Uncle Justin?" Peter asked wide-eyed.  
  
"Mexico City." Leo said closing his eyes. From his nervousness, Peter knew they were going somewhere else. "You don't have to go to school," Peter kept coaxing, "you don't have to go to your Dad's. We're going to this really cool park and all you've gotta do is keep quiet, ok?"  
  
"Won't Mom know I'm gone after the weekend's over?" Peter whispered back.  
  
"We'll be back before then, Pete. I promise. I just gotta take care of a few things. You're coming along for the ride...and for insurance. Just do as I tell ya, stay low, try not to look like you're not supposed to be with me, and I promise you'll be back before she'll notice. Just get some sleep ok, we've got a long flight. I'm not gonna letchya get in trouble or get caught, ok?"  
  
Peter just nodded and closed his eyes. He hoped real Mexican food wouldn't be as weird as he heard it was.  
  
The chaos theory at its finest." Malcom mumbled, and gladly escaped the rumble. The bartender and the waitstaff wasn't even paying attention to the nerdy man with the buldging pockets. One particular entrepenureal busboy was taking bets.  
  
Meanwhile Doggett was successfully dodging careless, but swift and mean punches while Mulder was slurring barely comprehensible accusations.  
  
"Mul" Doggett protested futiley, ducking his head to dodge each punch. "Muld--" he sighed heavily. "For Christ sake, listen to yourself for one goddamn minute. Do you even know what you're sayin'?  
  
Scully, meanwhile, had managed pick herself up and had flung her arms around Mulder's neck, who was still throwing inaccurrate punches. All the while grinning stupidly.  
  
"Muldah, I hate to do this to ya, butchya askin' for it this time." Doggett grumbled, and accurately contacted his fist with Mulder's gut, knocking Scully off of Mulder and Mulder onto a chair.  
  
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaw!" Scully gushed, with her arms flung over him. "I never had anybody fight over me before. It's justh like in Titanic." She stayed, lying sprawled out on the floor wither her arms pillowed under her head. She kicked off her shoes as Starkweather nodded to Malcom for help. Then, they pulled her up, still lying flat on her back on a booth.  
  
Mulder, meanwhile, was still blindly throwing punches while scrumbling to his feet. "Iths ALL YOUR FAULT! Iths your faw *punch* I gaw Fiahed. *punch* Itsth your faw Thcullah gah a bun in the oven. It's your faw *punch* we're on the i-i-i-land. Iths ya faw *punch* I gaw awwesthted. Iths ya fawt *punch* we pwowy not gonna get back.  
  
Quite suddenly, and thankfully, Mulder stopped throwing his punches and at the top of his lungs in no recognizable key, broke into song.  
  
"Juuuuuuuuuuuust sit right back and you'll hear a tale." He sqawked, Scully stumbled up and over in his general direction and soon joined in with him, curling herself sloppily around him. The two together weren't even trying to carry a tune. They were shouting now, not even in unison. Scully was about a half a beat behind him. "A TALE OF A FATEFULL TIP. THAT THTARDED FROM THITH TRAFFIC PORT ABOARD THITH TINY SHIP."  
  
Andrea Nowark chose this moment to grace the bar with her presence. If she was going to spend quality time with a pannell of riff-raff she needed to be wasted up to her knees while she still could.  
  
"Martini, extra dry. No olive." She commanded the bartender, rolling her eyes at the couple's drunken display. Starkweather watched with her mouth curled up like a practicle joker and her eyes slit in anticipation as she watched the bartender powder the glass discreetly. The woman, too busy watching the rucous, didn't even notice what was being put into her glass. She laughed unattractively like a hyena.  
  
"Too bad we can't vote her off the island." She mumbled inaudibly. Doggett was the only one who heard her, and would have chuckled at the comment if he wasn't too busy trying to avoid contact again.  
  
Malcom, having stowed the glasses in his suitcase for later testing, saw what was going on and only raised a questionning eyebrow in Starkweather's direction.  
  
Starkweather, content that Andrea would start to feel the effects of the adult beverage momentarily, started to coax Scully off of Mulder.  
  
"SCULLY!" She shouted above Mulder's accusations  
  
Scully finally stumbled over to Starkweather and looped her arms around her. With Malcom's help, she lead Scully to a couch just outside the bar.  
  
"But I wanna staaaaaay!" Scully protested at the top of her lungs.  
  
"Scully," Starkweather began, sighing torturedly, closing her eyes as if the world would be normal again when she opened them, "You're drunk." She said simply.  
  
Scully slurped her bottom lip under her top one. "I'm not that *hic* drunk! Did you have a twin you didn't know about Jeri? 'Cause they're two of you. But they're fighting over me! How many times do I get to see two guys fighting over me. I bet I can get them to oil wrestle in boxer shorts!" She said giggling uncontrollably. "Don'tchya wanna see that? Ooooooh...make the room spin again, that was cool."  
  
"Quite frankly," Starkweather groaned, "the thought of seeing any relation of mine oil-wrestling in boxers repulses me." She hated nursing drunks.  
  
"Aaaaaaaw you're no fun."  
  
"Scully, you think you can go upstairs now?"  
  
Scully opened her mouth to protest, but all that came out was brown-colored vomit with chunks of the burger she ordered for room-service.  
  
"I think the chaos theory can be applied to drunken stupors, too, wouldn't you agree, Jerilyn." Malcom mumbled  
  
  
  
Scully slurped her bottom lip under her top one. "I'm not that *hic* drunk! Did you have a twin you didn't know about Jeri? 'Cause they're two of you. But they're fighting over me! How many times do I get to see two guys fighting over me. I bet I can get them to oil wrestle in boxer shorts!" She said giggling uncontrollably. "Don'tchya wanna see that? Ooooooh...make the room spin again, that was cool."  
  
"Quite frankly," Starkweather groaned, "the thought of seeing any relation of mine oil-wrestling in boxers repulses me." She hated nursing drunks.  
  
"Aaaaaaaw you're no fun."  
  
"Scully, you think you can go upstairs now?"  
  
Scully opened her mouth to protest, but all that came out was brown-colored vomit with chunks of the burger she ordered for room-service.  
  
"I think the chaos theory can be applied to drunken stupors, too, wouldn't you agree, Jerilyn." Malcom mumbled.  
  
Starkweather glared at Malcolm as she tried to ignore the warm, wet, chunky vomit trickling down the top of her feet and in between her toes. I am never wearing sandals again she told herself.  
  
However, the vomitting proved to be a good thing after all, for Scully had thrown up most of her drink, which meant whatever that drug was the bartender had slipped her (and Andrea Nowark, who was putting a fluttering hand to her head, as if she felt dizzy)that hadn't been digested yet, also came out of her. Scully took several gulping breaths. She was still out of the loop, but at least, (Thank God Starkweather thought) she stopped singing.  
  
Scully put her hands to her mouth, "Starkweather," Scully said "There's something wrong..."  
  
"Yeah, you just blew chunks," Malcolm said.  
  
"Malcolm," Starkweather said through clenched teeth, "stop trying to help."  
  
"There's a funny metallic taste..." Scully was desperately trying to sober up but unfortunately, she did injest enough of the strange white powder to knock her body chemistry off kilter. "And I'm still seeing double."  
  
Starkweather sprung into doctor-mode, "We need to get her to her room," she said to Malcolm, kicking off her vomit covered sandals as she stood up. "Will you help me??"  
  
Malcolm leapt up and ever the gentleman, carefully scooped Scully up in his arms. "There, there, Dr. Scully," Malcolm tut-tutted to her, "everything will be alright..." They started walking towards the stairs. Scully rolled her head to the side, looked towards the huge bay windows. Her eyes widened and she let loose a high pitched, very un-Scully-like shriek of pure shock and terror.  
  
Meanwhile.....  
  
Mulder stopped singing. Doggett stared at him, slack-jawed in total amazement. Andrea Nowark, now feeling the effects of the mickey, was trying to steady herself on her barstool. She had turned a nasty shade of green.  
  
"Mul - dah," Doggett finally spluttered out. "What the hel-"  
  
He didn't get to finish his thought for Mulder's eyes rolled up in the back of his head and he collapsed just as Andrea Nowark slid off her barstool, landing on her bony butt and giggling uncontrollably.  
  
"Stop starin'" Doggett barked at the grinning busboys who were jabbering in their native language and pointing at the drunk white woman laying sprawling on the plushy carpet. "And git her to her room." The busboys stared at him blankly. Doggett crouched down by Mulder and shook him. "Mulder? Mulder, c'mon, talk to m-"  
  
Just then, Scully's ear-piercing shriek echoed through the corridors. The busboys turned white and fled. Doggett bolted up and his hand automatically went for where he kept his gun, which, of course wasn't there because technically, he was off-duty. He heard panicked voices and footsteps running, mostly away, but one was towards the bar.  
  
Dr. Grant, ashen faced and panting stopped at the door, "Agent Doggett, you must come, quickl- oh my God, what happened to him???" Grant looked down at Mulder's prostrate body in horror.  
  
"Dunno, Grant, but there's something damn weird about this island."  
  
"Not weird, Agent Doggett, lethal."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Dr. Starkweather said Dr. Scully saw a raptor outside the main window."  
  
"A what???" Doggett stared at him, then said "Help me with him," and together Doggett and Grant hoisted Mulder up and dragged him out of the bar.  
  
They left Andrea laying on the floor.  
  
A terrific bruhaha had built up by the time Doggett, Grant and the unconscious Mulder arrived on the scene. Starkweather was yelling in Spanish at three security guards. One of them was speaking rapidly in a walkie-talkie while Starkweather screamed at him, "Hey!! YOU, DAMMIT, I'M TALKING TO YOU, BUDDY!" in English before reverting back to Spanish, pointed at the window angrily. Scully was chalk-white and babbling incoherently, still feeling the effects of the drug as she clung fearfully to Malcolm's shirt.  
  
The elevator opened and Christie Carter, in a long black silky robe marched out. "What is going on??" she asked, cranky because she had been called out of bed, marched out.  
  
Starkweather wheeled on her. "She thinks she saw a dinosaur running loose outside."  
  
"Nonsense," Christie snapped. "All of the animals are monitored on a twenty- four hour basis. We are several miles away from the actual park. There is no way a dinosaur could be loose. Now," she reverted back to her "happy- camp-councelor" mode "it's very late and we have a big day tomorrow, so let's go off to bed, shall we? Please??"  
  
"Starkweather, don't punch her," Doggett said under his breath when he saw his partner clench her fist.  
  
Instead Starkweather said sweetly "Well, if there's no dinos running loose, then it'll be okay if I go out for a walk around the hotel."  
  
"Absolutely not!" Christie snapped.  
  
Starkweather smiled, glided past Christie and whispered to her "Busted..." in a sing-song voice then beckoned to Malcolm to follow her with Scully.  
  
Scully and Mulder's room  
  
Fishing the key out of Scully's pocket, Starkweather opened the door. Tummy came out from under the bed, whimpering. "Awww..." Malcolm said. "Cute little guy. Hope he doesn't become someone's snack," he said blithely as he laid Scully down on the bed after Starkweather pulled the comfortor and the sheets away. As Starkweather was covering her up, Scully's arm snaked out from under the blankets.  
  
"Wha'cha looking for Scully?" Starkweather kept her tone deliberately light.  
  
"My gun..." Scully said, trying to sit up. "Those dinosaurs..."  
  
"No no no no..." Starkweather pushed her down again. "Fire arms right now are bad. Just get some sleep, okay? I'm gonna to stay here tonight, so everything's all good."  
  
"But-"  
  
"Lay down!" Starkweather barked at her.  
  
Both Scully and Tummy laid down.  
  
"You certainly have a way with people," Malcolm chuckled. "And animals."  
  
"Good night, Malcolm and thank you for your help," Starkweather said pleasantly.  
  
Not deterred in the least, he grinned. "And I have always been a man able to take a hint. Sweet dreams, good Doctor Starkweather," and he crept out of the room.  
  
Starkweather first did a through search of Mulder and Scully's room for Scully service weapon and the little Beretta that somehow Mulder got a special permit to still carry (actually, her adoptive father, the Admiral Jeremy Bailey had secured the permit for Mulder but Starkweather didn't know that) She really didn't want to take the chance of Scully getting up in the middle of the night and decide to go Dinosaur-Hunting. A sick and twisted image popped into her sleep-deprived brain:  
  
"'ere we are on bee - yoo - ful La Eesla Loona Blan-kah, 'ome to some of the most INCREDIBLE creature eva'! We're gonna have a look-see at  
  
this gorgeous little baby T-Rex. Now... this sweet'art, 'ere, is only six foot tall and eats three goats a day... but when she's full grown, she'll be as tall as a 'ouse and will eat-"  
  
"Steve! Steve! Look out! The mama T-Rex is coming!!!"  
  
"Crikey! Lookit the size of her? Isn't she just gorgeous??"  
  
"STEVE YOU IDIOT!!! RUN!!"  
  
"YEOUWWWWWW!!!"  
  
Starkweather blinked the image of the friend Crocodile Hunter being munched on by a T-Rex out of her head as she resumed searching for Mulder and Scully's guns. "Ben's right," she muttered. "I have a warped imagination." She found Mulder and Scully's guns, along with their extra clips. She went over to the other bed, unloaded Mulder's Beretta and put the clip and the extras under her pillow. She was about to unload Scully's gun, but, eyebrows scrunched, she tiptoed over to the window and peered out behind the heavy draperies. She saw nothing but glass, thick metal bars and a whole lot of darkness.  
  
Starkweather frowned. Metal bars??? "Curiouser," she quoted 'Alice in Wonderland' "and curiouser." She checked to see if Scully fell asleep which, mercifully, she had.  
  
Starkweather double-checked the door to make sure it was looked. She went into the bathroom to watch the puke off her feet. As she sat on the edge of the tub, hosing her feet down, she looked idly down and saw the shirt Mulder was wearing on the floor. "What the hell??" she said aloud to no one in particular. "What is that purple sh*t all...." her eyebrows raised high. Her first instinct was to run back downstairs, but her body was informing her brain that it was very tired and would like to shut down for the evening.  
  
So Starkweather, careful to avoid contact with the shirt, left the bathroom and shut the door so Tummy wouldn't get in. She paused over Scully, listened to her soft breathing and then crossed over to the other bed, laying her head on the pillow that hid the extra clips. She safetied Scully's weapon and cradled it in her hand as she laid down on the soft bed on her side, facing Scully.  
  
"Insanity," she quoted her partner before falling into the sweet oblivion of sleep.  
  
Meanwhile the party continues....  
  
Doggett and Starkweather's room  
  
Dr. Grant fumbled with the key as Doggett held Mulder up. "C'mon, Dr. Grant," Doggett grumbled. "He ain't as light as he looks."  
  
Grant threw the door open wide and stepped aside as Doggett drug Mulder into the room and unceremonially threw Mulder onto the bed. Doggett sat down on the other bed.  
  
"So.... is your line of work always this... exciting?" Dr. Grant asked as he shut the door behind him quietly.  
  
Doggett wearily looked at Grant, trying to determine if the man was making a joke or being serious. Or possibly both. "My job's definitely.... interestin'. Seriously, Dr. Grant-"  
  
"Call me Alan." Grant leaned against the chest of drawers.  
  
"Okay... Alan... do you think Scully saw what she thought she saw?"  
  
Grant mulled this over, "We won't know until the morning, when the lurve birds sober up."  
  
That comment got a dry chuckle out of Doggett. "I wonder what the hell got into those two?? I've seen Scully drink before... she's not a total lightweight... but Mul-dah?? I thought he was gonna kill me."  
  
Grant frowned. "I wish I could tell you. I'm a paletologist, not a medical doctor, I'm afraid." He heaved a big sigh. "I wish I could allow myself the luxury of thinking that perhaps Agent Scully was hallucinating... but..." Grant closed his eyes. "The velicoraptors are vicious, intelligent animals. Very very intelligent. I do not doubt that if any dinosaur had escaped, it would be those hideous bast*rds," Grant's body involuntarily shuddered - Doggett did not miss that. "If and when I get back to the United States, I plan on spending some extensive time with my Congressmen to start work on drafting a bill that prohibits the.... resurrection... for lack of a better term.... of lethal and exstinct animals."  
  
"You'll have a uphill battle on Capitol Hill," Doggett said all too knowingly. "Trust me, right now, we're fightin' 'bout the morality of clonin' human tissue. It's just... insanity."  
  
"That's what happens when men play God."  
  
"You a religious man?"  
  
Grant smiled. "Are there athetists in a foxhole, Agent Doggett?"  
  
Doggett smiled back, very tiredly. "If you want me to call you Alan, then you gotta call me John."  
  
Grant nodded and tried to fight off a yawn. "You going to be alright with Mr. Mulder?"  
  
"I think he's out for the count," Doggett said, half-disgusted. Sure, they had their problems in the past and Mulder like to make little digs at him at his expense... but then, Mulder did that to everyone, so Doggett didn't feel signalled out. "I'd just like to know what the f*ck got into him tonight."  
  
"On the bright side," Grant couldn't resist, "it solved your sleeping arrangement issues... for one night at least... Mr. Starkweather."  
  
"Ha."  
  
"Interesting lady... Mrs. Starkweather," Grant took his leave. "Good night, John."  
  
"Yeah, you too," Doggett answered. When the door shut, Doggett threw a blanket over Mulder who was shivering like a junkie after a real bad acid trip.... Acid.... Doggett frowned. His hand automatically reached for the phone but he stopped himself. Starkweather would kill him if he called her this late. Doggett sighed, rolled over and went to sleep.  
  
Unbeknownst to anyone.... a pack of small, chicken-sized lizards, scuttled across the front yard of the hotel on their hind-legs... chattering softly.  
  
Meanwhile...somewhere else on the island...  
  
*********************************************  
  
"Uncle Justin, I'm gonna puke."  
  
"You just don't have your sea legs yet."  
  
"Like daddy says he has a third leg sometimes to girls he meets?"  
  
"Not quite like that" Leo said with a small smile. "Wait'll you see this place, kiddo! You'll be able to say you were one of the first ones on the island. You wanna meet a real-live dinosaur, dontchya?"  
  
"Not if I'm gonna hafta get there in one of those helicopters. I don't like being that high without a door. Besides, I thought dinosaurs were uh...stinky except in that movie where they ate everybody that mom wouldn't let me watch."  
  
"They may be stinky...but the word you're looking for I think is extinct."  
  
"That's what I said." Peter argued indignantly. Then after a few minutes of silence, "Am I green?"  
  
"You'll feel better once you throw up, ok Pete?"  
  
The boy roled his eyes up at his uncle unbelievingly and praddled on the rest of the way in silence. "When we get to our room, I should call mom, let her know we're here alright."  
  
"I don't have a way for you to call long distance, and you can't call her, ok?"  
  
"This must be it." Leo said as he appraoched a 4-Runner. "Good ol' Schabasser...leaving the key in the door." When in actuality, it was not-so- bright Christie Carter, but it was better Leo didn't know that.  
  
"Wow...lots of other cars here," Peter said, driving along the path.  
  
"I wonder if there'll be any other kids my age to play with."  
  
"We'll see." Leo mumbled. Then he felt a breeze and a shrill crowing. "Was that a bat?" Peter, meanwhile, ran around the car, scrunched himself underneath the wheel. "Peter!" Leo called out.  
  
"Dad let me watch the movie." Peter hissed from his hiding place. Another Unseen Something swooped over head, only this time with two cries. Leo gulped.  
  
"Schabasser you f*cking son of a b*tch, what the hell did you not tell me?" He whispered.  
  
Just then white, thin substance landed on the shield of the 4X4, as if it were a target. Then a winged giant Pelicanly swooped down and picked up Leo, throwing him onto a patch of tall grasses.  
  
"Tha...tha...tha...tha...tha...tha..tha..." a chalk-white Leo mumbled, like anyone intelligently dangerous facing something out of a B-Grade movie, and ran like hell under the car.  
  
Judging from the wet blotch in an embarrassing area, Peter was going to need a new pair of pants.  
  
**********************************************************************  
  
Meanwhile, back D.C.  
  
9:34 PM EST.  
  
**********************  
  
Ana had pulled out of her driveway on her way to class that evening and spotted something out of the corner of her eye.  
  
Something covered in blood. It was a wallett, containing all cash and credit cards, a picture of what was once her family.  
  
"Oh dear God..." She whispered, and whipped out her cell phone.  
  
"Hello, Mr. Cello, sir..." she pleaded softly, not quite sure of what to do next, "I'm sorry to bother you so late, but I need your help..."  
  
The next morning  
  
August 12, 2001  
  
4:37 AM Central Standard Time  
  
Starkweather's trecherous eyes popped open. "Dammit," she muttered, already knowing why she was awake. Her body, after years of early risings because of either for the military or for school, normally automatically woke itself up at 5:30 whether or not Starkweather's brain wanted to join it. La Isla Luna Blanca was just barely in the Central Standard Time zone, so Starkweather's jet-lagged body was still an hour ahead of the game. Starkweather closed her eyes again and after laying there for ten minutes, knew it was going to be useless to sleep. She sat up and yawned.  
  
"Starkweather?" A weak voice from across the room beckoned her.  
  
Starkweather slid off the bed and crossed over to Scully, who had just sat up. "Well, welcome back from your trip to La La Land."  
  
"What happened to me?" Scully asked her. "How did I get here?"  
  
Starkweather knelt down by Scully, took her by the wrist to check her pulse. As Starkweather watched the minute hand tick by on her watch, she murmurred to Scully, "You honestly don't remember."  
  
"No," Scully shook her head. "The last thing I remember was having a conversation with John. Then I blacked out... what did you mean by trip to La La Land."  
  
"Let's just say that you and Mulder certainly have a way with livening up a dull party," Starkweather sidestepped Scully's question after finishing taking her pulse. She then felt Scully's hands. She stood up and took out a tiny little Mag-Lite flashlight she kept on her keychain out of her pocket. "Look into the light Scully," Starkweather said, biting her lip, watching the reaction of Scully's pupils to the light. "How do you feel? Headachy? Clammy? Queasy?"  
  
"A little... I'm more concerned with the memory loss."  
  
"Me too," Starkweather said, switching off her flashlight. "Agent Scully, my friend, someone on this island is trying to either discredit us or kill us or both and I can't figure out which option they're going for. You have a sluggish pulse and your pupils didn't dilate as fast as they should have to the light, you're definitely had some sort of depressant in your system, it's wearing off, you're much more coherent and alert but you're still suffering from some of it's effects. As for what the hell's in you...."  
  
"Like a date-rape drug?" Scully said warily.  
  
"Maybe..." Starkweather said. "Jesus."  
  
"You said something about Mulder..."  
  
"He was... acting... not like his usual charming self, but I think... I think he was reacting to something else... Scully, I think you're okay now, but I don't want to leave you alone, do you think you're up to walking with me to Doggett's room?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
And Scully and Starkweather locked the door behind them.  
  
"You said something about Mulder..."  
  
"He was... acting... not like his usual charming self, but I think... I think he was reacting to something else... Scully, I think you're okay now, but I don't want to leave you alone, do you think you're up to walking with me to Doggett's room?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
And Scully and Starkweather locked the door behind them. Both women were barefooted and they padded down the hallway to Starkweather and Doggett's room. Starkweather knocked on the door.  
  
Doggett bolted away at the knock. He reached for his gun and walked to the door. "Yeah??" he said.  
  
"Papa John, it's me and Scully. Put the gun down and let us in."  
  
Doggett opened the door. "How'd you know I had my gun?"  
  
"X-ray vision," Starkweather quipped as she and Scully walked in.  
  
"Dana, you feelin'... better?" Doggett asked carefully.  
  
Scully meanwhile had made a beeline over to Mulder's sleeping form and started to examine him so Starkweather filled Doggett in. "She has no memory of what happened. Plus, whilst you were dealing with Moose and Squirrel over there, I saw the bartender drop a mickey in Andrea Nowark's drink. I didn't have time to prevent it."  
  
"Where is she now?" Doggett was instantly concerned. "I mean, yeah, nobody likes her, but still we can't just-"  
  
Starkweather interrrupted, "Don't worry, I saw a security guard carrying her out of the bar when Dr. Malcolm and I were taking Scully upstairs. So she's fine."  
  
"Did anyone else see this guy spiking drinks?"  
  
Starkweather shook her head, "No, but I had Malcolm cob Scully's glass and my glass out of the bar. All I need is a microscope."  
  
"I've gotta theory 'bout Mulder."  
  
"So do I, you first."  
  
"It's from an older X-File from way back, early nineties? This was prior to Mulder's first disappearance, when a hacker called "the Thinker" gave him an encrypted diskette."  
  
"Sure, I read that case. The text of the diskette was written in Navaho. It pertained to alien experimentation and the developement of a vaccine. This is my favorite X-File," Starkweather said dreamily, "Scully shot Mulder...."  
  
"To prevent him from killin' a witness, Alex Krycek if memory serves," Doggett said severely. "He was actin' under the influence because someone was druggin' him through his water."  
  
"With LSD. I read that. That crap gets into your spinal cord and stays there forever. You know, I always wondered why Kersh waited until the oil rig fiasco to can him when all he had to do was demand Mulder take a drug test. He would have been busted."  
  
"Maybe, but that's neither here or there. What I'm getting at is if someone who had LSD in there system prior, somehow injests another drug with similiar properties as LSD.... what are the possiblities of them havin' what's commonly called a 'bad trip'?"  
  
"Pretty damn good," Starkweather said. "In fact, Doggett, I think for once you and I are on the same wavelength. In fact... I'm going to go prove your theory right as soon as I get out of this damn skirt."  
  
"And I," Doggett said. "Am going to wake up Langly's ass. I wanna know what dirty little secrets are hidin' in there computers."  
  
"Good idea," Starkweather agreed. She turned to Scully and asked "How is he?"  
  
Scully pulled away from Mulder, who was still snoring softly. "He's sleeping like a passed out addict," she said soberly. "I'm going to stay here and take care of him," She rubbed her eyes.  
  
"I'm going to change my clothes," Starkweather mumbled as she started to rummage through her duffel bag.  
  
Doggett got on the phone. He frowned. "No dial tone," he grumbled. "I'm gonna go down there, what room is he in?"  
  
"1223," Starkweather said as she pulled out a pair of denim shorts and a blue tank top. Doggett left the room after stuffing his gun down the back of his pants and pulling his shirt over his weapon. Starkweather said to Scully before disappearing into the bathroom, "Go ahead and lay down Scully, you still need rest too."  
  
Fifteen minutes later...  
  
Starkweather, in a pair of well loved demin shorts and a white t-shirt padded down the majestic stairwell, carrying a heavy FBI field kit. For a moment, she admired the architectual designings of the hotel. "Swanky," she muttered, touching the marble banister of the stairwell just for the childish pleasure of feeling the hard coolness on her skin. "Truly ooh la la."  
  
The massive marble banister followed the curves of the stairs and ended in a massive marble flower pot were giant spiky plants resided. Starkweahter's first thought was they resembled spider plants. Only spider plants did not bloom and this had huge violently violet flowers. Looked very tropical. Starkweather bit her lip. She crouched down on the stairs a few feet away from the plants, looking at them warily, as if she was expecting them to jump out and bite her. She opened the kit and pulled out a pair of latex gloves. After putting them on with a snap, she took out a second pair and put them over top. She then reached into her back pocket and pulled out a pair of black leather gloves she usually wore when she was out on the firing range and practising with firearms bigger than FBI standard issue.  
  
"Taking no chances I see."  
  
Starkweather jumped about a foot in the air. She turned around and  
  
smiled. "Oh...it's only you..."  
  
Meanwhile...  
  
Doggett pounded on Langly and Wick's door. "Alright, alright, alright," Langly grumbled from the other side. "Hold your horses." Langly swung the door open. "Oh, it's you." He muttered.  
  
"Always a joy to see you too Langly."  
  
"Yeah. Sure."  
  
"Listen," Doggett said with a sigh, "I ain't got time to get into a pissin' contest with you, Langly. I need your imput and I need it now. Weird sh*t has been goin' on with the island-"  
  
"Yeah, like there's no freakin' dial tone," Langly b*tched.  
  
"Yeah, I noticed that too."  
  
"You better come in," Langly said bitterly. "You're right, we better talk. 'Cause I don't know what good I'm gonna be if I can't get a phone line out of here...." 


End file.
